


Can You Stop Doing That?

by katsujoong



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: .....or is it?, Alternate Universe - College/University, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, and seonghwa doesn't know how to handle it, hongjoong is pretty open about his emotions, hongjoong makes seonghwa feel things, it's not always about the yearning, most definitely denial, seonghwa is a scared gay, what are feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsujoong/pseuds/katsujoong
Summary: Romance was foreign territory for Seonghwa. Not that it bothered him or anything, romance was never a priority when he was more focused on getting through hell (also known as: college). When Hongjoong—a bright and vibrant boy who wore his heart on his sleeve—entered his life, Seonghwa became absolutely terrified and confused about everything he knew about his comfort zone.“Can you stop doing that?”“Doing what? I’m not doing anything.”“Exactly.”
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, yungi is more like a side relationship tho
Comments: 111
Kudos: 260





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, it's cherry! welcome to my first multi-chaptered fic on ao3! i hope you enjoy ^.^

School. 

The cause of distress and frustration among every student, no matter who you were or where you came from.

The reason why many students lose motivation in what once were their passions. A prison, yet deemed necessary by society.

A prison that was difficult to break out of, unless you A) were extremely brave and confident or B) had enough money to pursue what you truly wanted. 

All for a stupid piece of paper with their names slapped on it, saying “Congrats! Now make money and work until you rot away and die.” 

It wasn’t as if most people studied what they _actually_ wanted to either. If you studied something “useless” then you’d be looked down on and shamed by your family.

Which was really fucking stupid, in Seonghwa’s opinion. 

Not to mention, how could grades—mere _numbers_ —determine someone’s worth and intelligence? It couldn’t. But that was how the system worked.

Unfortunately, Seonghwa was a victim to this cruel system, despite his bitterness towards it.

He adjusted his backpack straps as he continued through the path, his shoes thumping against the pavement like a drum beat.

He glanced into the windows of the rooms he passed and was only able to catch bits of students scurrying around in their lab coats and safety glasses.

Seonghwa liked lab days.

He liked learning through hands-on experiences rather than sitting through hours of boring lectures, but he only had lab two days a week.

The only good things about college, he supposed, were the freedom of choosing his schedule and that he didn’t have the same classes every single day, unlike how it was for the past twelve years of school. 

He didn’t have to attend classes at eight in the morning if he chose to start his lectures at noon instead (of course, there were times where he was forced to take an early lecture because it either wasn’t offered at a later time or all the seats for the later time were filled up).

That was the only thing keeping him sane for the past two years of college, as he was now on his third. The slight freedom in this prison.

He turned the corner once he reached the edge of the building and his face immediately twisted into a grimace.

He averted his eyes quickly, but the damage had already been done.

A guy had a girl pinned to the wall, the two engaging in busy work with their mouths and hands.

Really? Right next to the door? The door that Seonghwa had to get through?

He really did not need to see a couple shoving their tongues down each other’s throats before going to class.

The sounds the couple was making were starting to get louder, making him a bit uncomfortable.

Seonghwa didn’t have an issue with couples expressing PDA—who was he to judge anyway? But the couple going at it by the door…..did they really not have any shame being so public about their….activities?

Seonghwa had to commend their confidence.

Focusing his gaze forward and blocking out his hearing, he sped through the door and walked down the path to reach the middle aisle of seats.

He took a seat at the end of the row (it was faster to leave class at the end seat) and pulled up the tiny desk attached to the seat.

Seonghwa’s mind wandered back to the couple.

Romance was always a weird thing with him. He was oblivious to flirting 98% of the time and he was aware that he was oblivious. That didn’t mean he was able to pick up on it regardless.

How could you even tell if someone was flirting anyway? What if they were just being nice?

The line between flirting and being nice were way too blurred, so it wasn’t Seonghwa’s fault for being oblivious, thank you very much.

He wondered what it felt like to hold deep romantic feelings for someone.

He never got close enough to anyone to develop such feelings, so he only had knowledge from people he knew, movies, books, and TV shows. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like.

Did people actually get butterflies? Did they feel sparks? Or were those just exaggerations? 

How did people even know if they had feelings for someone?

There were some instances where he found himself in awkward situations.

When he was in high school, two girls asked him out (not at the same time), but he rejected (after he made sure that he wasn’t being pranked, of course).

The first girl accepted the rejection and moved on. The second girl became defensive and confronted him immediately.

She released her anger (it was probably more embarrassment than anger) on him and accused him of leading her on when she flirted with him for the past three months.

Naturally, Seonghwa was confused. He didn’t mean to lead her on, but he found out that she thought he treated her differently—more special.

He didn’t even realize she flirted with him at all.

It was quite awkward to explain that he was just being himself and that he didn’t flirt or lead her on in any sort of way. 

She threw a rock at him after his clarification.

So yeah. Park Seonghwa was pretty useless when it came to romance.

This fact didn’t bother him though. Some people were obsessed with the idea of falling in love with The One. Some lived vicariously through other people’s relationships—both real and fictional—if their own love life wasn’t going so well. 

For Seonghwa? He simply accepted that he was attracted to guys and moved on. There were more important things to worry about, like his favorite anime that was ending soon.

Oh yeah, and getting through college.

There was just no time to delve into dating when he had to worry about his career and future.

His hand mindlessly wrote across his notebook, transcribing his professor’s words and the lecture slides. His notes were pretty messy, but it didn’t really matter. He would rewrite them neatly afterwards anyway.

His eyes were beginning to glaze over as the professor droned on about genetic recombination or whatever the fuck.

Seonghwa was half-listening to the lecture, but he forced himself to stay somewhat aware of the professor’s words since detailed information wasn’t given on the lecture slides.

A girl sitting in front of him had her laptop propped open, the screen showing an online shopping page.

Mood.

Seonghwa would rather do other things than sit in this lecture and draw diagrams about meiosis. And it was only the second week since school started, for fuck’s sake.

It was an understatement to say he wasn’t the biggest fan of biology. But, really, was anyone _actually_ a fan of bio?

When the professor finally dismissed the class, Seonghwa packed up his belongings and darted out of the room before the way to the exit became clustered.

The shining sun greeted him immediately and he squinted in recoil, the bright light heavily contrasting the dark lecture hall.

As his eyes adjusted, he started heading to the main campus square.

The main square was where most of the food shops were located and where student events took place.

Students were bustling around, some sitting at the tables with their friends and others idling around the benches on the sides.

Seonghwa weaved through the maze of tables, entering the building filled with restaurants.

Immediately, aromas of several foods took over his senses and his stomach grumbled in response.

Luckily, the place he wanted to grab food from didn’t have a line so he quickly bought an order of chicken nuggets.

As he waited for his order number to be called, he placed his bag on the high counter and leaned against it.

His pocket vibrated right when the employee called out his order. He grabbed the paper bag and slid into the chair.

He fished his phone out of his pocket, the screen lighting up to show a text notification.

Seonghwa took a bite of the warm nugget as he unlocked his phone and tapped the text message app.

**Yeosang:** can you send your bio notes

 **Yeosang:** i didn’t go to class

Yeosang was a friend Seonghwa met at the end of his second year in a class they shared.

Although Yeosang was a year younger, he shared some of the same classes with Seonghwa since he completed some requirements before even entering the school, so he was able to catch up quickly to older students.

Seonghwa wasn’t ashamed to say that Yeosang was probably smarter than him—Yeosang was on the nursing track after all.

He was an unlikely friend to make, seeing as how they never interacted at all until one day.

The class they met in was in the evening, so Seonghwa had brought tater tots with him to temporarily satisfy his hunger until he could grab a real dinner after class.

The topic the professor was teaching was quite heavy on pictures and infographics so Seonghwa couldn’t eat his tots as much as he would have liked, prioritizing drawing diagrams instead.

When he could finally let his hand rest before it cramped up, he felt a nudge to his arm.

He looked over and saw Yeosang looking expectantly at him. He thought Yeosang was going to ask him to borrow a pen or something, but what came out of Yeosang’s mouth was “Are you gonna finish that?” while pointing at the tater tots.

At the time, the only thing Seonghwa knew about Yeosang was that he was younger, so Seonghwa let him finish the rest of the food.

They became acquaintances after that day.

Seonghwa’s thumbs flew over the keyboard with practiced ease.

**Seonghwa:** it’s the second week of classes and you’re already skipping?

 **Yeosang** : what if i said i was constipated

 **Seonghwa:** were you?

 **Yeosang:** …….no

 **Seonghwa:** exactly

 **Seonghwa:** what if i skipped the same day as you, who are you gonna get your notes from then???

 **Yeosang:** i have other resources

 **Seonghwa:** then why are you asking me specifically

 **Yeosang:** because you’re my favorite <333

 **Seonghwa:** ……

 **Yeosang:** so are you gonna send the notes or no

 **Seonghwa:** i’ll send them later after i rewrite them

 **Yeosang:** and this is why you’re my favorite <33333

Seonghwa scrolled through social media while finishing off his chicken nuggets until it was time to head to his next class.

He tossed his trash out while leaving the building, slinging his backpack on.

He crossed campus until he reached the humanities buildings, which were at the opposite side of the science buildings.

The only times he ever went to the humanities buildings were for his general education classes, giving him a break from his usual math and science classes.

Art history wasn’t his first choice. Seonghwa tried to get a class where watching movies was part of the curriculum, but the seats filled up fast, so he was stuck with art history.

He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t necessarily enjoy it either.

The class was just to fulfill a requirement.

He entered the lecture hall and took a seat at the back. What he _did_ like about taking classes unrelated to his major was seeing new people since he usually saw the same people in his major classes.

It was refreshing, to say the least, not seeing the same five people who somehow always ended up taking the same exact science classes as Seonghwa.

The professor began speaking, but Seonghwa’s brain suddenly found interest in the volleyball game playing on his seat neighbor’s laptop. 

“As for your group projects, your partners have already been assigned and you can find their names and emails in your student portals,” the professor announced.

Wait what?

Group project?

Since when did this class have a group project?

The professor continued. “I hope you didn’t forget about it since it was in your syllabus.” Oh. “It will be due in the middle of the semester and will count as your midterm. So, no, there is no midterm exam. Just the presentation. All the details are in the syllabus, but email me or come to my office hours if you have any further questions.”

Seonghwa wasn’t sure if he preferred a group presentation over an actual test and vice versa.

What if his partner was a slacker? He didn’t want to have to do the whole project himself.

But then again, what if his partner didn’t do the work on par with Seonghwa’s standards?

Wait.

What if _Seonghwa_ was the one who couldn’t do the work on par with his partner’s standards?

He wasn’t exactly the strongest in art history and God forbid he became the reason his partner’s grades went down.

Too much could go wrong in a group project.

Begrudgingly, Seonghwa took out his laptop and opened up a new document to type out today’s notes. He would take a look at his partner’s name later.

◆◆◆◆

Seonghwa stared blankly at the clock on the wall as if the lasers coming out of his eyes would make time move faster.

It was midnight and the coffee shop was basically empty, save for a couple of people. 

He had a love-hate relationship with working the late night shifts.

He loved that people didn’t come often on most nights, so he didn’t have to work under a time crunch.

When it did get a bit crowded, a good portion of the students simply sat at the tables to do their work without ordering anything.

But that was only when it wasn’t exam season.

When midterms and finals week hit, Seonghwa and his coworkers would be overloaded with orders from stressed and sleep-deprived students.

It was difficult to balance work with school during these busy shifts because he didn’t have a lot of time to study for his own exams as he would’ve liked.

He would come home extra exhausted, left with barely any energy to stay up and study.

He needed this job though. College was expensive as fuck and it wasn’t going to pay for itself.

He brushed away his lethargy when a person walked up to the counter. Seonghwa pushed off the table he was leaning on and stepped forward to the register.

“Hi, welcome to Twilight Cafe!” Seonghwa greeted, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible.

The boy in front of him had bright blue hair, his eyes reflecting sleepiness—an expression Seonghwa constantly saw in customers during his shift.

“Can I get a medium iced caramel latte?” the boy asked while fiddling with his wallet.

Seonghwa entered the order on the machine and accepted the payment, giving the boy the change. “Your order number is 356. We’ll call it when it’s ready,” he gave his standard customer service smile, handing over the small numbered ticket.

The boy nodded and retreated to the pick-up side.

Seonghwa turned his head to look at his coworker currently squatting behind the counter.

“Wooyoung, go make the order,” Seonghwa called.

The mentioned boy glanced up from his phone and pouted. “Why me?” he whined.

With a hand on his hip, Seonghwa gave him a Look. “Because I let you sit there on your phone for the past fifteen minutes already,” he said pointedly.

Wooyoung dramatically groaned and stood up, pocketing his phone. He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath as he picked a cup off a stack and got to work.

Wooyoung was unlucky to work the late night shift with Seonghwa, but the older was grateful for his presence.

Even though Wooyoung often teased and poked fun at him, he did his job when he needed to.

And his bright personality helped Seonghwa get through the tiring, endless nights. It was hard not to love Wooyoung.

The espresso machine whirred to life right as Seonghwa felt a vibration.

After glancing to the back room to make sure his manager was still in there, he took out his phone.

It was an email notification. 

**From: Kim Hongjoong**

**To: Park Seonghwa**

**Subject: Art History Project**

_Hi, this is Hongjoong from Art History 205. We’re partners for the project and I’d like to get started with it as soon as possible. Here’s my number so it’ll be easier to contact each other: xxx-xxx-xxx. Since it’s late right now, we can talk later about meeting up._

_Thanks!_

Oh.

Well, that was fast.

The partners got assigned today and Seonghwa’s partner was already on his ass about it. He supposed he should be grateful about being paired with someone who didn’t want to wait until the last minute.

Hongjoong seemed decently responsible enough, judging by his email.

“Number 356!” he heard Wooyoung call.

Seonghwa saved Hongjoong’s number into his contacts, deciding to text him the next day. He was still at work and it _was_ pretty late.

He checked the time again before clicking his phone off.

Only ten minutes had passed.

It took all of his energy to not bang his head against the espresso machine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seonghwa becomes perplexed. Then he bakes.  
> And maybe he should add sunglasses to his Christmas wish list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait! i hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Seonghwa filled the sample tube with solution before inserting it into the Spectronic 20 machine. He watched the red needle move along the meter, recording the percent transmittance into his lab notebook.

He turned to report the number, but paused when he saw his lab partner staring into the void.

“Yunho,” he called.

The taller boy blinked and snapped out of his stupor. “Sorry,” he shook his head. “The simulation was glitching.”

Seonghwa stared. “Right. Well, here’s the percent transmittance,” he slid his notebook closer to Yunho. “Can you calculate the absorbance?”

“Yep,” Yunho confirmed, a gloved hand already tapping on a calculator.

He had met Yunho just last week when he asked Seonghwa to be his lab partner. He agreed, thankful for Yunho’s friendliness. There were times when Yunho said questionable things, but he was nice and a good lab partner so Seonghwa couldn’t complain.

Seonghwa’s eyes skimmed over the pink sheet that listed the instructions. He filled an empty tube with distilled water. Then, he adjusted the wavelength control of the spectrophotometer to the number stated on the sheet.

He wasn’t the strongest at chemistry (what the fuck was spectroscopy anyway?), but it was easy enough to follow the directions.

He sighed and took off his safety glasses to briefly let his eyes rest from seeing through plastic.

“Do you think life is just a simulation and we’re just being controlled like characters?” Yunho suddenly asked while writing down the transmittance.

“What?” Seonghwa pushed his glasses back on.

Yunho adjusted the wavelength for the next set of data. “Like, you know when you walk in a room and forget why you even entered in the first place?”

Seonghwa did know. It happened to him often and he had to physically backtrack until he remembered why he came into a room.

“Yeah, it happens all the time,” Seonghwa replied while entering numbers into his calculator.

“Exactly,” Yunho said, as if that explained everything.

Seonghwa frowned. “I don’t think that proves that life is a simulation though.”

“Okay, but what about when you get deja vu? It’s like the creators are deleting data from your character’s mind so that’s why it seems like you feel like you saw something before, but you can’t remember it exactly,” the taller boy gestured with his hands.

Other students huddled around their own tables, donned in white lab coats and safety glasses that Seonghwa and Yunho both wore. Some were diligently working and others seemed more relaxed, going at their own pace. None of them were listening in on Yunho’s conspiracy.

“I guess?” Seonghwa said, more of a question than a statement.

“But doesn’t it make sense?” Yunho grabbed a ruler and aligned it on his notebook. He drew two straight lines to set up his graph. “How else can you explain why deja vu happens?”

Seonghwa stared at the messy scrawl of numbers on his paper. Why _did_ deja vu happen? Was there a scientific explanation for it? Or was it just one of those weird life mysteries?

There were times when deja vu hit him so hard, but he knew for sure he had never seen it before.

“Well, fuck,” Seonghwa said, absentmindedly. “Maybe life really is a simulation.”

Yunho passed the ruler over. “I told you. The person controlling my character sucks though,” he began to plot points on his graph. “Like, come on dude make me rich,” he joked, making Seonghwa laugh.

He was glad he had Yunho as his lab partner. Yunho was smart and actually knew what he was doing (most of the time) as a chemistry major. Conspiracies aside, he made lab days more fun.

The two finished gathering their data before lab ended, promising to compare their lab reports later on.

Waving goodbye to Yunho, Seonghwa quickly pulled out his phone.

**Seonghwa:** do you wanna come over to my apartment and help me bake cat cookies

 **Yeosang:** cookies for cats?

 **Seonghwa:** cat shaped cookies

 **Yeosang:** oh bet

 **Seonghwa:** i have math rn so

 **Seonghwa:** come over in an hour

◆◆◆◆

“Shit, it’s stuck.”

Yeosang held up the whisk he was stirring with and pointed at the blocks of butter trapped within the metal bars.

“I’ll do it,” Seonghwa reached for the whisk and took Yeosang’s place. “Just measure out the sugar and vanilla extract.”

Yeosang hummed and grabbed a measuring spoon as Seonghwa whisked the butter until it was a smoother consistency. 

Seonghwa discovered the recipe last week and finally had the chance to try it out. The cookies looked cute as hell so of course he had to try to make them. With school and work, he didn’t have as much free time as he would have liked, but he snatched any opportunity he had to bake. After all, he did keep an extensive bookmarked list of baking videos.

He tossed in the powdered ingredients that Yeosang had measured out for him on the side and stirred the mixture.

“How many cookies are you making?” Yeosang asked, settling in the chair across from Seonghwa.

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa shrugged. “Enough.”

Yeosang narrowed his eyes. “So, uh, I can take some home right?”

“No, I’m just taking advantage of your free labor.”

Seonghwa sputtered after Yeosang flicked remnants of flour on him.

“How’s your anime class going?” Seonghwa asked, slipping on a glove to mix the dough with his hand.

“Amazing,” Yeosang gushed. “The professor came in and turned on Naruto without even saying anything.”

“That’s it? No homework or anything?”

“Oh, we have to submit an analysis for an online discussion, but it’s easy,” Yeosang replied and picked the lid off of a container, grabbing a brownie.

Seonghwa divided the dough into smaller bowls and sprinkled cocoa powder into one and black cocoa powder into another. “If only the seats didn’t get filled up so fast,” he sighed, kneading the powder into the dough to change its colors. “Spending an hour watching anime for class sounds like a dream.”

“If someone drops the class, you could try to get in,” Yeosang said, slightly muffled due to the brownie in his mouth.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Seonghwa waved off. “I don’t wanna fuck myself over by taking an extra class.” He shaped the main yellow dough with careful fingers and started rolling the brown dough into a long noodle.

“These brownies are really good, by the way,” Yeosang examined another piece, as if he was trying to figure out what secret Seonghwa added to it.

Seonghwa rolled the black dough into a noodle in the same fashion. “I know,” he said smugly. He placed the rolled pieces on top of the yellow dough. They would serve as the base of the cat ears.

“If you’re jobless in the future, you could probably open a bakery,” Yeosang flipped through the random mail on the white counter, pausing at a sheet of coupons and slipping a food coupon into his pocket slyly.

Seonghwa’s hands halted before they could wrap the wax paper over the dough. He shook his head and rolled the dough into a cylinder with the paper. “Maybe,” he sighed. He carefully placed the dough onto a tray and put it in the freezer to let it harden. He peered at Yeosang who was scrolling through his phone. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping me?”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow. “Well, you were doing everything already, so now I’m just existing.”

“Roll these out and make them into triangles,” Seonghwa gestured to the other two small balls of dough.

With a dramatic sigh, Yeosang got up and switched places with Seonghwa.

Seonghwa placed his forearms on the table, watching Yeosang to ensure he doesn’t fuck up. “Do you think people can make a good living from just running a bakery?”

“Hmm,” Yeosang hummed, crouching to carefully press the dough with his fingers, creating a long triangle shaped noodle. “Maybe? There are those big chain bakery companies, but I don’t know about smaller bakeries.”

Seonghwa pursed his lips.

“I mean I think smaller bakeries can do well if the food they make is, like, godly and they get their name out there.”

“Interesting,” Seonghwa mumbled.

“Do these look okay?” Yeosang motioned to the two pieces of dough he shaped.

“Yeah, those are fine,” Seonghwa confirmed, standing to take out the dough from the freezer.

He applied a thin layer of milk to the dark colored sides of the dough and gently placed the triangle pieces on top, matching its respective colors.

Steadying a knife in his hand, he pressed down to cut out a piece.

“Woah,” he gasped. The cat head shape was perfect, matching the appearance of the baking video he referenced.

Yeosang poked at it. “I wanna eat it so badly right now.”

“Don’t eat raw dough,” Seonghwa smacked his hand away before continuing to cut more pieces. “They’re beautiful,” he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

Yeosang began to place the cut pieces onto a baking tray. “If I had no regard for my health, I’d totally eat one raw.”

“I will kick you before you can,” Seonghwa retorted, grabbing the tray and placing it into the preheated oven. “Start melting the chocolate chips.”

Fortunately, the cookies didn’t have to be baked for very long, so by the time Yeosang was shoving the melted chocolate into the piping bags (while also getting chocolate all over the counter), the cookies had finished baking.

With their piping bags, they drew on cute cat faces on the cookies, varying the facial expressions. Yeosang licked the tip of the chocolate-filled bag when Seonghwa wasn’t looking (Seonghwa definitely noticed).

“Shit,” Seonghwa cursed. He accidentally made one eye bigger than the other, so he tried to match the smaller eye to the bigger one. 

It failed.

He made a noise of distress, causing Yeosang to look over and snicker. Of course, the cookies Yeosang designed were perfect and proportional.

Seonghwa glared and aggressively snapped off half of the messed up cookie with his mouth. And holy shit was the cookie delicious. It was sweet, but not too sweet to the point it became overwhelming. Seonghwa’s body could honestly start ascending with how crispy the outside was, yet the inside was soft.

Yeosang bit into a cookie as well. “You’re a god,” he said, his eyes widening at the flavor.

“That I am,” Seonghwa agreed.

“So I can take half of these, right?”

Seonghwa nodded.

“Oh, do you have work today?” Yeosang slid the cookies into a plastic bag.

“Unfortunately,” Seonghwa groaned. He clicked his phone on to check the time. “I should be leaving soon.”

“That’s rough, buddy,” Yeosang patted his shoulder. “I’ll go now then. Don’t die at work!”

◆◆◆◆

Seonghwa’s feet were getting numb from standing. Sure, he did build endurance for standing for long periods of time, but that didn’t mean his feet were invincible.

There weren't a lot of people at the coffee shop today as usual, so Seonghwa had kept himself busy by wiping the counter over and over. It was spotless before he even wiped it, but there was nothing else to do. His manager would nag at him for standing around and doing nothing too.

He shoved more straws into the metal holder as he watched a student type furiously on her laptop.

What classes did he have tomorrow?

He racked his brain. Bio and art history.

He nodded to himself and wiped the counter again.

Why did it feel like he forgot something?

Oh fuck.

Art history.

Group project.

His partner.

He forgot to text Hongjoong! A whole day nearly passed and he had forgotten to text Hongjoong about meeting up for the project.

Seonghwa was about to start crying.

He didn’t want Hongjoong to think he was bailing out or that Seonghwa was irresponsible and wouldn't pull his own weight. Hongjoong may be a stranger, but Seonghwa had integrity.

He peered into the back room, scanning the area for his manager. He found her sitting on a chair, flipping through a packet.

“Can I go on my break?” Seonghwa spoke up.

She glanced up and Seonghwa could see her tired eyes through her glasses. “It’s not busy right?”

Seonghwa nodded. “There hasn’t been any customers for the past 30 minutes.”

“Take your break then,” she waved her hand.

Seonghwa thanked her and leaned against the wall where he wouldn’t be as visible to customers. His manager could be strict at times, but she was nice and understanding. Seonghwa was grateful he wasn’t stuck with the other manager, who was known to pick and prod at every worker.

He pulled out his phone and tapped on the texting app.

**Seonghwa:** hey this is seonghwa your art history project partner! i’m so sorry i didn’t text earlier, i swear i’m responsible but i’ve been just been caught up in stuff

 **Seonghwa:** and i’m sorry for texting so late!!! i’m at work rn and i just remembered to text you

Seonghwa waited in anticipation. Hopefully, Hongjoong was nice. And hopefully he responded quickly before Seonghwa’s break was over.

He almost dropped his phone when it vibrated.

**Hongjoong:** don’t worry about it! it’s fine, i get it ^^

Seonghwa sighed in relief.

**Hongjoong:** you’re at work?

 **Seonghwa:** yeah i work at twilight cafe

 **Hongjoong:** what a coincidence!!! i’m literally about to go in rn

 **Hongjoong:** hold on

Wait a fucking second.

Seonghwa wasn’t ready to meet a whole ass stranger right now.

He didn’t mentally prepare himself yet.

The bell above the front door rang, signaling that someone was entering. Well, Seonghwa’s break was over anyway.

He pocketed his phone and stepped up behind the register.

Bright blue hair was the first thing he saw.

The second thing he saw was shining eyes.

Seonghwa blinked.

“Are you Seonghwa? I’m Hongjoong,” the boy—Hongjoong—asked, lips upturned in a friendly smile.

Seonghwa took in Hongjoong’s appearance, noticing his smaller frame hidden in his oversized hoodie that he was drowning in. He didn’t know what he expected of Hongjoong’s appearance, honestly. He briefly wondered if Hongjoong’s hair was crispy from bleaching it.

“Uh, yeah,” Seonghwa replied, lamely. “That’s me.”

“Were you working last night too?” Hongjoong asked while his fingertips tapped along the table mindlessly.

“Oh yeah, I was,” Seonghwa nodded, his brain racking back to last night. “You came in last night, right? I think I remember you.” Hongjoong’s blue hair _did_ seem vaguely familiar.

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair. 

So his hair _wasn’t_ crispy.

“I did! I don’t usually come in a lot though,” he looked away. “Not until it’s exam week, you know?”

At the mention of exam week, Seonghwa got war flashbacks to the endless line that would take up a lot of space in the cafe, leaving him exhausted until the rush finally died down.

He shivered. “I definitely do know,” he shook his head to dramatically emphasize the pain he would go through. “I swear the line never ends.”

Hongjoong slightly threw his head back and laughed. The sound was bright and lively and Seonghwa thought the sun appeared in the cafe for a moment.

“Do you always work late shifts?” Hongjoong tilted his head.

Weren’t they supposed to be discussing the project?

Seonghwa straightened his work apron (he didn’t know what else to do with his hands). “Yeah, but it’s not too bad most of the time. Most people don’t like working closing either, so,” he shrugged.

Working the closing shift meant having to wipe down all the tables and washing the equipment—all of which were a pain to do. But Seonghwa had survived from being fired because he was one of the few willing to work the late shifts.

“I see, I see,” Hongjoong nodded thoughtfully. 

A few seconds passed.

Seonghwa rocked on his heels.

Should he bring up the project now?

“So,” he started. “The project…”

“Oh!” Hongjoong exclaimed, his eyes widening and mouth forming an ‘o’ shape in realization. “Right, I forgot, oh my god,” he smacked his forehead, lightly laughing. “When are you free?”

Seonghwa clasped his hands behind his back and looked up to the ceiling. “I’m free for about two hours before art history tomorrow. Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect!” Hongjoong agreed. “We can work in one of the study rooms at the library.”

“Sure, that works. I’ll meet you in front of the library then?”

Hongjoong nodded, his bangs falling over his eyes. “I hope my email didn’t weird you out or anything,” he began fidgeting with his fingers. “I just didn’t want to put it off until the last minute.”

“It’s fine, I get it,” Seonghwa reassured him. “I’m glad you reached out—” he paused, noticing a girl awkwardly hovering a few feet away from the register. It was easy to tell that she wanted to order, but Seonghwa had been talking to Hongjoong.

Hongjoong followed his line of sight and jumped away from the counter. “Shit, sorry. You can go ahead,” he gestured.

The girl nodded in thanks and shuffled forward.

“What can I get you?” Seonghwa switched to customer service mode.

“A medium iced peach tea, please,” she replied.

He nodded, entering the order into the machine. “Will that be all?”

“And…” she trailed off. 

Seonghwa glanced up questioningly, his hand still hovering over the screen, as he waited for her to finish.

She took in a deep breath and focused her gaze on Seonghwa’s eyes with determination glinting in them. “Your number,” she stated, confidence unwavering.

Seonghwa cleared his throat awkwardly.

Well.

Customers asking for his number (as forward as her) happened only a few times before, but he wasn’t used to it.

His hand reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. From the corner of his eye he saw Hongjoong standing a respective distance away as he examined the pastries in the display case. He was a distance away, but he was still close enough to hear.

“Unfortunately, only the peach tea is available,” he tried to say as gently as possible. _Please, I’m just trying to do my job here._

“I thought I’d try,” she smiled, obviously embarrassed by the rejection, and opened her wallet. “Just the tea is fine.”

Seonghwa accepted her payment and handed back the change. “Your order number is 410. I’ll call it when it’s ready.”

She nodded and went to sit at a table.

Seonghwa grabbed a cup and slapped on the order label the register had printed.

“Does that happen a lot?”

He startled, not expecting Hongjoong to talk about it. He grabbed the pitcher of peach tea and placed it on the table. “Not really,” he scooped ice into the cup.

“Really?” Hongjoong asked as he followed Seonghwa’s actions with his eyes.

“Why? Does it seem like it happens a lot?” Seonghwa snorted. He poured the cold tea into the cup.

Hongjoong shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering.”

Seonghwa finished the order by swishing the cup around after adding a pump of syrup and capping it with a lid.

He moved to the pick-up counter and was about to call out the number when the girl was already getting out of her seat.

“Enjoy,” he smiled and slid the cup across the table. “Have a nice night.”

“Thank you, you too,” she said, taking the drink.

Hongjoong was still looking at the display case.

“Sorry, what were we talking about?” Seonghwa asked.

“Library. Tomorrow. Two hours before art history, right?” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow.

“Right, right,” Seonghwa confirmed, crouching to reach the rag in a compartment under the table.

“Are you sure that doesn’t happen a lot?” Hongjoong looked to the exit where the girl had left through.

“People asking for my number at work?”

“Yeah.”

Seonghwa frowned. “Why would it? Most of the time people just get their drink and go,” he started to wipe the counter where he accidentally spilled some of the tea.

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “It _should_ be happening a lot.”

Seonghwa didn’t know what Hongjoong meant.

“You rejected her pretty easily too,” Hongjoong continued. “It just seemed like you knew exactly what to say to not hurt her feelings.”

Seonghwa threw the rag back in the bucket. “I guess I’m just good at customer service then. I didn’t want her to throw a rock at me or anything,” he leaned against the counter.

Hongjoong blinked in surprise. “Has someone thrown a rock at you before?”

“It happened a long time ago. It was a big rock too,” he reminisced. Luckily, Seonghwa had dodged out of the way before he got attacked.

The blue haired boy looked slightly concerned.

“Did you want to order anything?” Seonghwa suddenly remembered their text conversation. “You said you were on your way here when I texted you.”

Hongjoong froze, as if he got caught doing something wrong. “I was supposed to get a drink for my roommate,” he said slowly as uncertainty colored his face. “But it’s okay! He shouldn’t be drinking coffee this late anyway,” he grinned, waving his hand. His eyes crinkled with playfulness as he smiled, teeth on full display.

For the second time in the night, Seonghwa swore he saw the cafe light up with sun rays.

Maybe he should invest in sunglasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, idk shit about chemistry (and literally anything science-related) LMAO i just looked up some lab paper and based off the yunhwa scene from that! i'm sorry for inaccuracies ( ; ω ; )
> 
> [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAJDvZUVZUk) is the cat cookie recipe i was referencing! they're so cute aaaaaaa i wanna eat them
> 
> i'm not completely satisfied with the baking scene, but it's an important scene so it is what it is :(


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for the long wait so here i am with a chapter longer than the previous! i hope you like it :D

Seonghwa puffed out his cheeks as he rocked back and forth on his feet.

The breeze was nice today—the heat of summer was going away and soon enough the chilly air of winter would come.

It was a usual school day.

Students went to and came back from their classes, some lounging around on the benches and some entering or leaving the library behind him.

Seonghwa kept his eyes peeled for bright blue hair. Hongjoong should be arriving any second now, as they agreed to meet up before art history.

He watched a man holding a laptop with one hand, tapping aggressively on the touchpad with the other hand as he walked. His face was filled with panic—completely focused on the screen—and Seonghwa felt sympathy for him.

It really was like that sometimes.

“Seonghwa!”

He whipped his head to where the yell came from and found Hongjoong bounding his way towards him with big steps. The blue-haired boy’s mouth was open, corners pulled upward into a friendly smile.

He was dressed in a black sweater with an aqua design on it and a dark gray beret covered most of his hair, save for the bangs covering his forehead.

“Hi,” Seonghwa greeted.

Hongjoong slightly bumped his shoulder into Seonghwa when he reached his side. “How was your day?”

Seonghwa thought back to the lecture he had earlier. “Boring as usual,” he replied. They strolled forward to the doors of the library. “I wanted to skip class earlier, but it’s only the second week of school, so I just went.”

He pulled the handle to swing the door open, letting Hongjoong enter first.

“What class was it?” Hongjoong lowered his voice to respect the quietness of the library.

The library was always crowded whenever Seonghwa came in. Most of the time it was pretty hard to find an open seat or desk so he usually had to keep walking around like a creep until someone finally left their station.

“Bio,” Seonghwa said, his face twisting into a slight sneer.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at him before heading to the back of the library where the study rooms were located. “Are you a bio major?”

“Unfortunately,” he sighed.

“Unfortunately?” Hongjoong repeated. “Dude, you have a pretty massive brain if you’re majoring in bio.”

Seonghwa huffed in amusement. “Not really. I think my brain cells have died off after these past years.”

They followed along the wall to briefly glance through the windows of the study rooms as they passed by, checking for an empty room.

Taken, taken, taken, taken, taken—

Oh!

Finally, an empty room.

The study rooms were available to use when students wanted to hold study sessions as a group, do group work, practice presentations, or just any instance where they needed to talk out loud.

They all held a table with several chairs, a whiteboard, and a projector to hook up laptops to.

Seonghwa swung his backpack onto the table, settling into a chair.

Hongjoong did the same and removed his satchel.

“What about you? What’s your major?” Seonghwa asked while unzipping his bag to slide out his laptop.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes before resting his cheek on his palm. “Guess,” he said cheekily with a sly smile.

Seonghwa was shit at guessing.

“Uh,” he uttered.

He thought back to what he knew of Hongjoong.

Well, what little he knew of Hongjoong.

Which wasn’t much, if anything at all.

The only thing Seonghwa knew of the other boy was that they shared art history together.

He scrunched his face in contemplation and crossed his arms. “Literature?” he took a wild guess.

“Really?” Hongjoong seemed genuinely surprised.

“I mean you’re wearing a beret,” Seonghwa stared pointedly at the hat.

Hongjoong frowned, lightly touching the beret. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. It gives off literature vibes?”

“I'm not sure if I should be offended or not, but I’m doing music composition.”

Seonghwa didn’t expect that.

“ _Music composition_?” he said, incredulously.

He didn’t know much about it, but he knew the requirements to get accepted into the school with music composition were pretty tough.

If he wasn’t wrong, people applying for it had to submit a portfolio of compositions before passing to move onto the audition and interview stage.

Only after passing those three stages could students study as music composition students.

Hongjoong was on another level.

“Holy shit, you’re the one with the brain cells here, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa looked at him in a new light. “Isn’t music composition, like, really hard to be accepted for?”

Hongjoong reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not _that_ hard,” he replied, sheepishly.

_Bitch, what do you mean “not that hard”—_

“Okay, so you’re just naturally talented then, alright,” Seonghwa raised his arms up in surrender.

Hongjoong pretended to throw a pen at him.

“So did you look at the syllabus for the directions yet?” Seonghwa asked, navigating through the student portal to find said syllabus.

“Yeah, did you?” Hongjoong booted up his own laptop.

Seonghwa paused before answering. “Definitely...” he said slowly, to which Hongjoong snickered.

“Oh yeah? What is it about then?” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, his tone playful.

Seonghwa crossed his arms. “How do I know _you_ didn’t read the syllabus and you’re just trying to get me to tell you so it seems like you did read it?” he countered.

“So you read all ten pages of the syllabus?”

“There were _ten_ pages?”

Seonghwa wanted to slap himself for slipping up.

Hongjoong stared at him, attempting to maintain a straight face, but his lips were threatening to break out into a smile. “The project doesn’t seem too bad. We just have to choose a theme, find artworks related to it, and compare them to modern art.”

“I knew that,” Seonghwa tried to play it off, pretending to look offended. He squinted as his eyes trailed over the words on the screen. “Ten to fifteen minute presentation?” he groaned. “Just run me over with a car already.”

“You don’t like presentations?” Hongjoong briefly glanced up from his screen.

“Does _anybody_ like presentations?”

Hongjoong blinked at him. “I like them.”

“We’ve already established that you have more brain cells than the average human,” Seonghwa said, waving his hand flippantly. “I can do presentations, but I just…” he shivered.

“I can do a bit more than half of the talking if you want?” Hongjoong suggested.

Was he an angel?

“I will give you all my money if you did that,” Seonghwa deadpanned, causing the other boy to burst into laughter.

The sound was more carefree, compared to the first time Seonghwa heard him laugh at the cafe. It was bright—a bit melodious—and gave the image of an endless blue sky and chirping birds in Seonghwa’s mind.

His laugh was the epitome of driving down a highway by the beach, windows down, with music blasting in the car.

“Keep your money, it’s not a big deal,” Hongjoong said, still smiling.

They decided to choose music as their theme since Seonghwa didn’t know what the fuck else to do (all the options seemed unappealing) so he was trusting in Hongjoong to be the big brain between them.

Not like he was gonna make Hongjoong do all the work—of course not.

Seonghwa could bullshit an analysis well enough that the teacher would think he was very thoughtful and insightful (when he really wasn’t; he just pulled it out of his ass). So he would pull his own weight on this project by finding even the most obscure connections between the old and modern artworks.

They spent the next hour researching and collecting images. Hongjoong would focus on modern art and Seonghwa would focus on the old. It was silent for the most part except for the occasional questions for clarification.

It was (mostly) silent until Hongjoong started humming.

Seonghwa didn’t recognize the tune after listening for a few minutes.

He wasn’t sure if Hongjoong was aware he was humming since the blue-haired boy was just vibing in his seat as he worked, head slightly bopping to the unidentified tune.

Seonghwa peeled his eyes away and continued to work until it was time to head to art history.

Which led to a problem.

He took his time shutting down his laptop and packing up as his brain went 100 miles per hour with questions.

Do they walk to class together?

Should they?

Were they supposed to since they had the same destination?

They weren’t technically friends (they only met twice, for fuck’s sake) so it would be weird to walk together right?

But at the same time, it would also be awkward to just leave and walk on his own if they were going to the same class.

There was a chance that Hongjoong preferred to walk by himself though.

But what if he expected them to walk together?

What the fuck should Seonghwa do?

“Do you wanna walk to class together? Since we’re going to the same place and all,” Hongjoong fixed his satchel’s strap over his body.

Oh.

Alright then.

Seonghwa mentally thanked Hongjoong for settling his internal dilemma.

“Sure,” he answered.

They crossed campus in silence (which Seonghwa was fine with because he didn’t know what to talk about).

He noticed that Hongjoong tended to walk with a little bounce in his steps, almost like he was on the verge of skipping and frolicking away.

Did this guy just ooze energy all the time?

When they passed through the entrance of the lecture hall, Seonghwa was struck with another problem.

Was this when they parted ways?

Did Hongjoong expect him to sit next to each other during class?

Hongjoong probably had other friends to sit with, right?

Before Seonghwa’s mind sent him spiraling into another internal debate about whether or not he would come off as creepy and weirdly attached to Hongjoong by sitting next to him (or rude if he didn't sit next to him and Hongjoong expected him to), Seonghwa went ahead and took a seat at the back where he usually did.

He began settling into his chair, but froze when Hongjoong plopped into the chair on his left.

_Huh???_

_He has other friends in this class, right?_

_Why choose to sit next to me????_

_Are we friends now???_

With calculated movements, Seonghwa turned his head to face Hongjoong, who let out a small huff as he propped up the small desk attached to his seat, unaware of Seonghwa’s confusion.

His cheeks were slightly puffed out, his lips forming a small pout, while he fished out a folder from his bag.

Noticing a pair of eyes on him, Hongjoong met his gaze and beamed a smile at him before carrying on with settling his supplies.

Seonghwa blinked.

Then he pulled out his laptop in preparation of taking notes.

When the professor began lecturing, Seonghwa did his best to maintain his focus on her words and the images she was projecting on the large screen.

He ignored the sprouts of warmth creeping into his upper arm every time Hongjoong brushed his arm against his, destroying the invisible barrier between them that their shared armrest created, whenever he moved to scribble notes on his paper.

(Did Hongjoong _really_ need all those colorful pens?)

It didn’t help that he was leaning towards Seonghwa’s side subconsciously too. He briefly wondered if Hongjoong held a different idea of personal space.

An idea popped in his brain.

As naturally as he could, Seonghwa shifted his left arm (the victim to Hongjoong’s leaning) to reach into his backpack and pull out the little plastic bag.

He popped it open and grabbed a cat cookie that he had packed for emergencies.

One of the good things about college? Being able to eat during class without being reprimanded.

His tongue savored the sweet taste as he chewed, typing notes with one hand.

Eating the treat allowed Seonghwa to escape from Hongjoong’s clutches and focus on the lecture, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of the side eye Hongjoong was currently giving him.

_Did he…..?_

Seonghwa shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth and silently offered another one to Hongjoong.

He sensed the other boy’s hesitancy in taking it as Hongjoong’s eyes flickered from the cookie to his face so he urged him by shoving it closer to Hongjoong’s hand.

Hongjoong finally took it, lightly bowing his head and offering a smile in thanks, and bit into the treat.

Then he froze.

And Seonghwa began to panic.

Why wasn’t Hongjoong moving?

He wasn’t allergic, right? The recipe didn’t have any ingredients that included common allergies.

But Hongjoong was just staring at him with wide eyes, crumbs falling from his lips.

Oh shit, did Seonghwa _poison_ him or something?

“Seonghwa…” Hongjoong whispered, eyes still wide. Seonghwa couldn’t decipher what emotions were swirling in them.

“What? What is it?” Seonghwa asked frantically.

Hongjoong swallowed. “These are so good, _what the fuck_ ,” he examined the cookie closely as if trying to figure out what secrets Seonghwa had put in it. “Where did you get them?”

“I, uh,” he said stiffly. “I made them.”

Hongjoong’s mouth dropped in shock. “You _made_ them? They look and taste good and you just—you’re amazing.”

Just like how Seonghwa saw Hongjoong in a new light after learning the other was a music composition major, Hongjoong was looking at Seonghwa like he moved a mountain.

And all Seonghwa did was bake some fucking cookies.

His cheeks began to flush at the compliment and attention Hongjoong was giving him (while class was very much still going on).

So he simply shoved the rest of the cookies to Hongjoong and turned his attention to the lecture, showing that Seonghwa would not allow Hongjoong to refuse the sudden offering.

Seonghwa continued to ignore the warmth pressing against his arm again for the rest of class.

Hongjoong spoke up when Seonghwa was shutting down his laptop. “Do you have any more classes today?”

“Nope, I’m done for the day.”

“Are you working tonight?”

Seonghwa zipped up his backpack. “Fortunately, it’s my day off.” Hongjoong was about to say something, but Seonghwa wasn’t paying attention. “I think I’m just gonna go back to my apartment.”

“Oh! Okay,” Hongjoong lifted his own bag. “I have another class soon.”

Seonghwa nodded at his statement.

Then they parted ways.

◆◆◆◆

Seonghwa had met up with Hongjoong once the next week because the former needed help analyzing the artworks he found and it was easier to have Hongjoong explain them in person.

Well, they had only seen each other outside of class once since Hongjoong had started sitting next to Seonghwa during class.

Seonghwa was confused at the new arrangement, to say the least.

It wasn’t like he took amazing notes or anything. And all Seonghwa did during class was just type notes and occasionally look at cat pictures when he got bored (which was often).

Maybe Hongjoong sat next to him to look at cat pictures too.

Seonghwa couldn’t blame him for that.

They didn’t talk a lot before and after class either. They usually exchanged a few sentences and that was it—mostly about their individual progress on the project.

Seonghwa knew Hongjoong for about two weeks and while he still didn’t know a lot about the other, one thing was blatantly clear.

Hongjoong was a touchy kind of person.

When they had met up in the study room, Hongjoong pulled up a chair next to Seonghwa to point directly at the art maximized on Seonghwa’s laptop.

Seonghwa had been nodding along to Hongjoong’s explanation, the gears in his head clicking in place.

Then he made a joke about the art, prompting Hongjoong to let out another one of those carefree laughs that made his eyes crinkle into crescents.

Objectively, it was a pretty bad dad joke Seonghwa would admit, so he was thrown off when Hongjoong’s knees knocked into his as he laughed.

Seonghwa didn’t know what to do but simply just sit there as Hongjoong also grabbed his shoulder to steady himself, recovering from the force of his laughter.

The joke honestly wasn’t that funny (in Seonghwa’s opinion) to warrant such a reaction, but hey, maybe bad dad jokes were Hongjoong’s style.

It was now Friday and Seonghwa was lucky that the stars aligned for his schedule to be free of classes on Fridays.

Hongjoong had only one class so Seonghwa was waiting outside of the library as usual. They planned to go over the work they had completed within the past week.

Since he was waiting, he decided to finally get around to doing what he had been meaning to do recently.

He unlocked his phone and scanned through his texts until he found the person he was looking for.

**Seonghwa:** hey jaehyuk do you wanna hang out soon before classes start kicking our asses

Jaehyuk was a close friend of Seonghwa’s for many years, having met each other in high school and keeping contact since then. They attended different colleges, but that didn’t stop them from meeting up every once in a while to catch up. 

They weren’t as close as they used to be, but that didn’t matter. It still felt like they picked up where they left off no matter how long the gap of not talking. 

Seonghwa scrolled through social media as he waited. He didn’t get a response immediately, but that didn’t bother him. People had lives, after all.

He was so immersed in a cake baking video that he didn’t notice when Hongjoong arrived.

(Watching icing fall over a cake smoothly was really satisfying.)

A poke to his cheek snapped him out of the trance.

His head jerked from the sudden touch and he locked eyes with Hongjoong, who stood in front of him, peering up with his head tilted and hands together behind his back.

Hongjoong gave a familiar smile—he smiled so often it was scary how familiar it was becoming.

“Sorry,” Seonghwa blurted, pocketing his phone.

“I stood here for a good three minutes and you didn’t look up at all,” Hongjoong commented. “I thought you were pretending to not notice me.”

Seonghwa opened his mouth to apologize again, but Hongjoong laid a hand on his elbow to turn him around to face the library doors.

“Let’s go,” he started walking ahead and if it wasn’t for the faint smile on Hongjoong’s lips, Seonghwa would’ve thought that he was a bit upset for not noticing Hongjoong’s arrival.

With quick strides, Seonghwa caught up and the two followed the trail they normally trekked when reaching the study rooms.

They checked for an empty room, as they usually did.

But all the rooms were taken, which was not usual.

Seonghwa supposed this had to happen eventually. They got lucky whenever they went to claim a study room—either one would already be empty or a group was just leaving theirs.

“They’re all taken,” Hongjoong said, keeping his voice low.

Seonghwa bit his lower lip. “What should we do?”

His brain wracked through other locations on campus they could possibly go to. They could try to claim a table in the main square, but the chances of finding a free table were low.

They could go to the cof—

“We can go to my apartment?” Hongjoon broke Seonghwa’s train of thought. He ruffled his blue hair, uncertainty in his eyes.

Seonghwa opened his mouth to reply, but Hongjoong suddenly looked away as his brows furrowed.

“Wait, my roommate...” he trailed off, having an internal debate.

Seonghwa had no idea what Hongjoong meant, but if his roommate might be a problem then….

“We can go to my apartment instead?” Seonghwa cut in. “I live alone so…”

Whatever concerns that were running around Hongjoong’s head seemed to disappear at Seonghwa’s words.

“Really? Are you sure?”

It couldn’t have been that weird for Seonghwa to offer his own apartment after Hongjoong suggested his own.

He nodded. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

And that was how Seonghwa ended up coming home not by himself this time.

He kicked off his shoes once he entered, encouraging Hongjoong to do the same.

“You can leave your stuff on the couch,” he said.

Hongjoong shuffled across slowly, making his way towards the living room as he admired the interior.

It was strange having another person in Seonghwa’s space. There wasn’t much to see in his apartment anyway—he just had the basic necessities with some random trinkets laying around.

But it was strange nonetheless.

Seonghwa’s home witnessed everything from his happy moments to his breakdowns. It was his safe haven that he could rely on after a rough day.

It was familiar. Comforting. 

And to suddenly have someone who wasn’t Yeosang enter his home...it felt a bit weird.

“Nice place,” Hongjoong commented idly. “Very...peaceful compared to the noise I’m used to.”

“Thanks,” Seonghwa dropped his backpack on the L-shaped couch on the opposite side of Hongjoong, who chose to settle at the other end. “Is it always loud at your place?”

Hongjoong shrugged off his jacket and neatly folded it. “My roommate and I take turns being loud. He yells when he plays games and sometimes I use speakers when I’m working on music. I have a friend help me with vocals too and he has a pretty powerful voice, so loudness isn’t really uncommon there.”

Seonghwa tried imagining what it was like to live in a noisy place. He’d probably go insane.

“And it’s so clean here too,” Hongjoong added.

“I try to keep it nice and neat, so I clean often,” Seonghwa shrugged. “I don’t like it when it gets too messy.”

Hongjoong snorted, wiggling further into the couch to get comfortable. “You’d hate it at my place then. It’s never clean no matter how hard I try.”

“Not to assume anything, but the first step to cleaning is always clearing out the mountain of things you stacked on a chair.”

“...You didn’t have to call me out like that.”

“Do you want anything to drink or eat?” Seonghwa padded to the kitchen and opened the fridge. A bag of bean sprouts and a jug of apple juice stared back at him. “Uh, actually, how about just something to drink?”

“No thanks, I’m alright,” Hongjoong replied.

“Let’s get to work then.”

“College is a scam,” Seonghwa sighed, chin resting on his palm.

He had shifted from the couch to sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa while working. His neck cracked as he rotated his head around.

Hongjoong rubbed his eyes, chasing away the ache from looking at his screen. “Tell me about it.”

He was setting up the presentation slides while Seonghwa worked on an analysis. 

And by “working on an analysis,” Seonghwa actually only wrote about five sentences before getting distracted.

“Is it just me or do you feel less motivated to get work done?” Hongjoong put his laptop aside to stretch his arms upward.

“It’s not just you,” Seonghwa said. “My work ethic becomes shit whenever it’s Friday.”

“I’m honestly one second away from pulling up Minecraft.”

Seonghwa chuckled and rested his head on the edge of the couch. Now that he wasn’t burning his eyes from his computer screen, the darkening sky was much more apparent.

He grabbed his phone and clicked the screen on. “It’s already evening?”

“Is it?” Hongjoong straightened up, checking his own phone. “I didn’t even realize—I was too busy contemplating life.”

Seonghwa watched the other boy glance around at his belongings that were spread around him on the couch, as if he didn’t know what to grab first.

He hadn’t had a chance to turn on the lights or even turn on the lamp by the sofa, so the only source of light came from their laptops and the sun that was giving away its very last rays of light before setting in the horizon.

Hongjoong’s vibrancy that he usually emanated seemed more toned down now. He was the type of person unable to sit completely still—Seonghwa learned that quickly. His head would be gently swaying side to side or his fingers tapping away on a surface.

But now that energy wasn’t as active.

It wasn’t like snuffing out a flame though—it was more like dialing down the burner on a stove. Still present, but not as strong as before.

Seonghwa lifted himself onto the couch and reached to switch the lamp on.

A yellow glow spread throughout the apartment.

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair as he blew air out of his cheeks.

Especially with the warm lighting, he seemed...softer, if Seonghwa had to give it a label.

“Well!” Hongjoong suddenly stood up. “I think I should be heading home now.” 

The voice of Seonghwa’s mom echoed in his head. _Never let your guests leave on an empty stomach_.

“Do...do you wanna stay for dinner?” he asked hesitantly, causing Hongjoong to stop his ministrations of packing up. “We can order in something since I don’t really have actual food in the fridge.”

Hongjoong turned around, a gleam in his eyes. “Really? Sounds good to me!”

Never mind, his energy was definitely still strong as ever.

“You can pick what we order. I’m not a picky eater,” Seonghwa offered, much to Hongjoong’s delight.

Hongjoong whipped out his phone and plopped back onto the couch, the apples of his cheeks slightly puffing.

They settled on ordering black bean noodles with tteokbokki and after a short argument of who was going to pay (Seonghwa did before Hongjoong had a chance), the two were munching away.

Seonghwa was on the floor with his back against the sofa again and Hongjoong sat on the edge of the sofa to avoid spilling on it.

He tried not to choke from laughing at Hongjoong who made noises of excitement when he took his first bite.

He shoved a ball of noodles in his mouth with his chopsticks and pointedly looked at Hongjoong’s head.

“Your hair is fading,” he observed, swallowing his food. “Are you gonna redye it?”

Hongjoong’s hair wasn’t as vibrant as it used to be when they first met. It was fading into a duller color and Seonghwa wondered how long it would take until it looked completely different from when he first saw it.

The end of a noodle popped in Hongjoong’s mouth quickly. He picked a section of his hair and held it in front of his eyes. Today he had styled it to reveal his forehead. “Yeah, I think so. I haven’t been blue for long enough.”

“Do you dye your hair a lot?”

“You could say that,” Hongjoong wiped his mouth with a napkin. “What about you?”

Seonghwa picked up a rice cake and shoved it into his mouth. “Me? No, I’ve never dyed my hair or anything like that.”

“Really? Not even once?” Hongjoong tilted his head.

Seonghwa shook his head. “I never got interested. I don’t even style my hair in a special way,” his eyes looked at the strands covering his forehead. It was true—he simply combed his hair and got on with his day, so his hair was always lying flat over his head.

He never felt a need to style it anyway.

“Hmm,” Hongjoong hummed. He placed his bowl on the small table and shifted across the couch, closer to Seonghwa. He cocked his head to the side again and raised a hand. 

Seonghwa tilted his head up to face him, questioningly.

“What if you…” Hongjoong’s hand ran through the side of Seonghwa’s hair, pushing half of it back and leaving the other half untouched. 

Seonghwa froze, not expecting the other boy to suddenly touch his head.

Hongjoong’s scrutinizing expression dropped and a different one replaced it. His narrowed eyes became round and his brows were no longer furrowed.

The yellow lighting cast a warm glow over him, making his features look even more delicate.

The quiet flame was back.

Seonghwa couldn’t tell what thoughts were swimming in Hongjoong’s mind, but he _could_ tell that Hongjoong’s hand was warm against his head.

He sure kept his hand in Seonghwa’s hair for longer than he thought.

_Bzzt!_

A sudden vibration broke the frozen state Hongjoong was in and he immediately retracted his hand.

“Sorry,” he apologized, diverting his gaze to the phone on the table.

That was...kind of weird.

Seonghwa leaned over to snatch his phone as it lit up to reveal a notification.

It was a text.

**Jaehyuk:** sorry im gonna be busy! next time?

He stared at the letters.

“What’s wrong?” Hongjoong asked.

“Huh?” Seonghwa said absentmindedly, his mind still trained on the text.

“You look upset.”

Seonghwa whipped his head up. “I do?”

“You were frowning,” Hongjoong’s voice softened as concern filled his eyes. “Did something happen?”

Seonghwa honestly didn’t realize he was frowning.

“It’s...it’s nothing,” he shook his head and locked his phone.

It wasn’t the first time Jaehyuk had said he was busy—Seonghwa had his fair share of those moments too.

And it was fine if either one of them was busy. That’s how life was.

But Jaehyuk had always explained why he was busy. He never left out the reasoning behind asking for a reschedule, so his short text was ambiguous.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Seonghwa threw his phone onto the cushions. “Don’t worry about it.”

Hongjoong didn’t press any further.

The quiet flame didn’t burn stronger that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jaehyuk is a completely fictional character, there is no association to any jaehyuks in real life!!
> 
> who do you think hongjoong's roommate is :O  
> and you know what i'm talking about when i mention hongjoong's puffy cheeks right?? if you've watched his solo vlives then you definitely know what i'm talking about
> 
> this chapter took me so long to write and i deeply apologize for the long wait :( i'm trying to churn out longer chapters too so i hope you enjoyed this one (especially since it was entirely all seongjoong ohohoho)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back with a longer chapter! hope you enjoy ^.^

“Why must I be emotionally constipated?” Yeosang whined, his voice muffled from planting his face onto his notebook.

Seonghwa snorted. “Don’t be such a baby, I’m sure it wasn’t even that bad,” he plucked a stray piece of lettuce hanging onto dear life from his sandwich.

The two of them had time to kill, so Yeosang had texted Seonghwa to meet up, claiming he had to vent about an embarrassing moment before it ate him alive.

The main square was as lively as ever and Seonghwa had to swat his hand over his sandwich whenever a fly tried to come near.

“Trust me, it was,” Yeosang deadpanned before wistfully staring into the distance.

“How bad could it have been?” Seonghwa took a bite, relishing the flavors that burst over his tongue.

“Well,” Yeosang started as he ran a hand through his hair. “We had to complete a worksheet with a partner, but then my partner got a phone call.”

Seonghwa waited patiently.

“And it turns out his mom got into a _fucking car accident_ so he was about to leave class and guess what I fucking said,” Yeosang gestured wildly with his hands.

“What did you say?” Seonghwa complied.

“I was like _‘But what about the assignment? We’ll lose points if we don’t finish it now’_ instead of just saying something like _‘Oh I’m so sorry to hear that’_ but no!” Yeosang’s palms suddenly slammed on the table, causing Seonghwa to jump. “I just _had_ to be an insensitive asshole!”

“Dude…”

“ _I know_.”

Seonghwa grimaced. “I’m sure if you apologize, he’ll understand that you didn't mean it.”

Yeosang hid his face in his hands. “I don’t know,” he groaned. “I’ll apologize for sure, but he looked so mad when I said that—as he should—and I don’t even know how I’ll recover.”

Sympathetically, Seonghwa reached up to pat Yeosang’s shoulder. “Just be sincere the next time you see him and hopefully he takes it well.”

“I’m not going to class ever again,” Yeosang declared, determination firing in his eyes.

“What—no!” Seonghwa slapped his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t use it as an excuse to skip class.”

Yeosang mumbled indecipherable words to himself, frowning, before snatching Seonghwa’s sandwich and chomping on it.

Before Seonghwa could protest the robbery Yeosang just pulled, an incessant vibration took his attention.

Both pairs of eyes focused on Seonghwa’s phone ringing on the table, the screen lighting up to signal an incoming call.

Seonghwa slid across the screen to answer, holding up the device to his ear. “Hello? Why are you calling?” he asked curiously. Yeosang continued to chew, staying silent in respect.

“ _Do I need a reason to be calling my own son?_ ” his mother’s voice rang through.

It was certainly an odd time for his mom to call him. She usually called or texted at night.

“Mom, you never call in the day.”

“ _....I suppose that’s true._ ”

Seonghwa could picture his mom relaxing at a table at the restaurant she worked at, legs worn out, taking a few minutes of her precious break to talk to him.

“ _How’s school? Did you make any new friends? Have you been eating well? You better be_ — _you need to stay healthy or I’m gonna come over there and_ —”

“Yes, yes,” Seonghwa cut in. “School is fine and you know I always try to stay healthy, don’t worry,” he reassured.

Yeosang took another bite of Seonghwa’s sandwich.

“ _I know_ ,” his mom’s tone became gentler. “ _It’s hard not to worry when you live so far now._ ”

Guilt crept into Seonghwa’s heart. He had chosen a school that was quite a distance from his home and with his parents’ and Seonghwa’s busy schedules, it wasn’t often they could visit Seonghwa and vice versa.

He did feel guilty for leaving his parents behind, but the need to be free on his own won over.

“Why are you calling though?” he asked again.

He felt his mom’s hesitation. “ _I got an email from your school_ ,” she began carefully. “ _About your tuition._ ”

Oh no.

Anything about tuition was bad news.

“What about it?” he asked, even though he was scared to know.

“ _It increased_ ,” she revealed.

Seonghwa’s heart dropped in his chest.

“ _Not by an extreme amount, but…_ ” she trailed off. He knew what she was going to say. “ _It’s gonna be tough keeping up with the payments._ ”

Seonghwa swallowed, his throat feeling thick with guilt again.

It was his decision to attend this school, despite his parents’ insistence to stay closer to home. And now his parents had to bear the burden of paying more tuition due to his decision.

Of course Seonghwa did try to help out by winning as many scholarships as he could and working at Twilight Cafe. 

But he still felt bad for adding more to the plate of responsibilities his parents already had.

“I’m sorry,” was all Seonghwa could say. He ignored Yeosang’s concerning gaze, knowing the younger noticed his downcast eyes.

His mom sighed. “ _I don’t understand why you couldn’t go to the school close to home_ ,” she said. It was a common sentence Seonghwa had heard his mom say repeatedly over time. And every time she said it, it still felt like needles stabbing into his heart.

“I’ll figure something out,” he dragged a hand over his face. There must be something he could do.

He could feel the stress piling up on his back already.

“ _Okay_ ,” she said quietly. “ _I have to get back to work now. Love you, my star_.”

“Love you too, mom,” he replied before setting his phone back down once he heard the blare of the call ending.

“You good?” Yeosang asked.

Seonghwa released a strangled groan from his throat to express his frustration.

He looked down at the sandwich wrapper still open in front of him, finding it empty. Then he looked to Yeosang.

Who was no longer holding his sandwich as he was earlier.

And the sandwich was nowhere in sight.

“Hey, where’s my sandwich?!” he whipped his head around as if it would appear out of thin air.

“I have never heard of a sandwich in my life.”

◆◆◆◆

The glob of stickiness stared back at Seonghwa.

He sighed and smacked the wet rag on top of the mahogany table, scrubbing away at the sticky residue.

Why couldn’t people wipe up their spills at the very least?

The coffee shop was busier than usual, which meant Wooyoung couldn’t hide behind the counter and fuck around on his phone. 

_Ding!_

Seonghwa had to get rid of this stickiness before more customers came in. He knew how hectic it could be so he couldn’t leave Wooyoung alone to take orders and make drinks.

If this stain could just get off faster—

He pushed the rag harder against the table and used more force to wipe at it, using his other hand to stabilize himself.

Nearly there!

“Uh, hello? Can I help you?” he vaguely heard Wooyoung’s voice.

Finally!

This stupid table was clean again.

Seonghwa straightened his back, soothing the aches that accumulated while he was hunched over.

His eyes trailed over to check on how Wooyoung was doing, only to find him still standing at the register looking at the customer, head tilted.

“Hellooo?” Wooyoung dragged out the ‘o’ sound.

He finally caught Seonghwa’s eyes and exaggerated looking between the customer and Seonghwa.

It was an obvious cry for help.

The customer, who had their hood up, was standing like a statue so he wondered what was going on.

He walked back behind the counter, tossing the rag back into the cleaning bucket, and quickly washed his hands.

He strode over to the register. “Is there something going—” Seonghwa paused, blinking. He let out a breath and quietly said to Wooyoung, “I got this. Go...do whatever you do.”

Wooyoung nodded before skipping away to do whatever he did when Seonghwa wasn’t looking.

Focusing on the customer, Seonghwa’s eyes traced over the slightly puffy eyes and downturned lips that were jutting out to form a small pout.

“What’s going on? Did something happen?” Seonghwa asked, eyebrows furrowed.

If Hongjoong was just standing there, unmoving, while sadness was apparent all over his face, then something bad must have happened.

“No,” Hongjoong denied, his voice weak. Hold on, did he just _sniffle_?

Seonghwa rested his palms on the counter and softened his expression. “You don’t have to pretend, Hongjoong. You’re obviously...sad.”

“It’s stupid,” Hongjoong lowered his head and shoved his hands into his hoodie’s pocket. The hood was nearly drowning him, making him look smaller than usual, especially with how his shoulders were hunched.

“It’s not stupid if it made you sad.”

Hongjoong seemed to contemplate for a few seconds.

“I found a stray cat behind the geology building, so I tried to feed and pet it,” Hongjoong recalled. “But it ran away from me. So now I’m sad because it hates me.”

Seonghwa honestly did not expect that to be the reason behind Hongjoong’s pout. He would’ve thought that Hongjoong was kidding, but he said it so matter-of-factly there was no way he was lying.

“You think it’s stupid, don’t you,” Hongjoong sighed, somehow looking even more dejected.

“No! Not at all,” Seonghwa immediately reassured. “I just wasn’t expecting you to say that, that’s all. But it’s completely valid. Honestly.”

Hongjoong’s gaze shifted to the side. “It’s okay. I know it’s dumb to be worked up over it.”

Seonghwa swallowed uncomfortably. “But, um, why...why are you here? Did you want to order something?”

He didn’t see how a stray cat and a coffee shop correlated.

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong lightly kicked at the ground. “Nothing is real. Time is just a man-made concept.”

Okay, that took a turn.

He didn’t like this Hongjoong where it seemed like the light was sucked out of his eyes.

“Uh,” Seonghwa uttered. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

Hongjoong suddenly thrust a closed fist to Seonghwa, his sleeve covering most of his hand. “Hot chocolate would be nice,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” Seonghwa let out, looking at the fist. He hovered his palm below Hongjoong’s hand for him to drop the crumbled bills. Seonghwa entered the order into the machine and returned the change. “Why don’t you go find a seat, hm? I’ll bring it to you.”

Hongjoong simply nodded without another word and dragged his feet to an empty table.

Seonghwa turned and nearly jumped out of his skin, pressing a hand over his heart. “God, Wooyoung, where the fuck did you come from?”

The perpetrator came back at some point without alerting Seonghwa’s notice and he managed to get started on steaming the milk.

Wooyoung peered into the cup to check the liquid. “Well, you see, my parents—”

“Stop,” Seonghwa held a hand up.

Wooyoung whistled innocently, dumping the milk and hot chocolate powder into a cup. Seonghwa didn’t even realize that Wooyoung was there to hear Hongjoong’s order.

The younger grabbed a small whisk and began mixing the contents. Without stopping his hand, he raised an eyebrow at Seonghwa, giving him a look.

Seonghwa didn’t like that look.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he remarked, facing the display case.

An assortment of muffins, rolls, macarons, and bagels were organized accordingly and, as usual since it was nighttime, a good portion was gone, having been bought by customers throughout the day.

(He did see Wooyoung sneak a muffin earlier, but as long as he paid for it later, Seonghwa wouldn’t scold him.)

But one particular set of colorful sweets gave Seonghwa an idea.

Reaching for a pastry bag, he slid the display case open and with the tongs he carefully placed three macarons of different flavors into the bag.

Wooyoung was still giving him a look.

Seonghwa brushed past him, bag in hand, and picked up the warm cup of hot chocolate Wooyoung had set aside.

He strolled to Hongjoong and placed the goods on the table from the opposite end.

Hongjoong perked up at the sight of the new arrivals, but frowned at the small pastry bag. “What’s this?” he picked it up with careful fingers, tilting his head.

“You look like you need it,” Seonghwa replied and before he could stop his mouth from acting on his own, he added, “And I don’t think anyone can hate you. Not even a cat.”

Hongjoong looked into the bag and pulled out a macaron, examining it closely.

Seonghwa had chosen to give him a vanilla, strawberry, and green tea macaron. He sure hoped Hongjoong didn’t hate those flavors or things were about to get extremely awkward.

Hongjoong glanced up at Seonghwa, an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

And panic began to bubble in Seonghwa’s chest because Hongjoong looked like he was about to start crying.

Then a smile broke out on Hongjoong’s face, relieving Seonghwa of his panic.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong said, gratefulness coloring his voice.

Hongjoong had a way of acting like Seonghwa did something huge and astonishing.

And it wasn’t the first time he made it sound like Seonghwa saved his life or found the cure for cancer.

Seonghwa simply....existed and acted as any normal decent human would.

The familiar light returned to Hongjoong’s eyes, the cafe lighting making them look as if they were sparkling.

“So I have to go back to work,” Seonghwa jabbed a thumb behind him.

“Oh, of course. Of course,” Hongjoong repeated, nodding in understanding.

Seonghwa took a step back. “Are...you gonna be okay?”

Hongjoong looked from the macaron in his hand to Seonghwa. “Yeah,” he said, giving a small smile (that vaguely reminded Seonghwa of a cat).

Seonghwa couldn’t detect any sadness radiating from Hongjoong anymore so he shuffled back to behind the counter where Wooyoung was waiting with his arms crossed.

Seonghwa braced himself.

“So, who’s that?” Wooyoung asked, glancing over Seonghwa’s shoulder, giggling to himself.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and sighed. He knew what Wooyoung was implying and of course he had to jump to conclusions.

“Just a friend,” he emphasized. “We’re partners for a group project.”

“But you gave him macarons for _free_ ,” Wooyoung emphasized. “And you know you’re gonna have to pay for them yourself.”

Seonghwa pushed the tray of granola bars to its original position. “So? It’s not like I’m breaking my wallet for it.”

“Seems like more-than-a-friend behavior to me,” Wooyoung teased.

“I’m not heartless, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes again.

Wooyoung didn’t respond so Seonghwa thought he finally dropped the topic.

Until he heard Wooyoung giggling to himself again, the sound giving him evil vibes.

He would probably get nightmares about Wooyoung’s evil giggles that seemed to promise an eon of teasing.

Seonghwa gave him a look, slightly disturbed. “Go restock the napkins.”

“Fine,” Wooyoung groaned, heading to the backroom.

Hearing the bell above the door ring and a person entering, Seonghwa readied himself behind the register.

The sandy-haired man who entered was quite tall—Seonghwa could easily tell even from a distance.

But he didn’t head for the register.

He went straight to Hongjoong’s table, said a few words that Seonghwa couldn’t hear, and patted Hongjoong’s shoulder, prompting him to stand up.

Seonghwa watched them leave together and blinked in surprise when Hongjoong suddenly turned to raise his hand and wave at him as he left.

Wooyoung returned to the front while Seonghwa was in the middle of waving back.

“Did he leave with someone?” Wooyoung squinted at the door, arms full of stacks of napkins. “His boyfriend?”

“Why is a boyfriend the first thing you assume? There’s a good chance they’re just friends,” Seonghwa reasoned.

“Why is a friend the first thing _you_ assume?” Wooyoung retorted. “Did he tell you that himself?”

“No, but not everything has to be romantic,” Seonghwa flicked Wooyoung’s forehead before the latter could smack his hand away.

“Ow!” Wooyoung scowled.

Seonghwa knew Wooyoung wasn’t actually mad, if the playful glint in his eyes were anything to go by.

“Didn’t I tell you to restock the napkins?” Seonghwa placed his hands on his hips, like a disappointed mother would.

Wooyoung let out a dramatic groan. “I’m going, I’m going.”

Wooyoung had a tendency for exaggerating and snooping into other people’s business, but he didn’t mean any real harm. 

(He did seem to make it his second job to tease Seonghwa whenever he could too.)

Whether the guy who came to pick up Hongjoong was Hongjoong’s boyfriend or not didn’t matter to Seonghwa. It wasn’t his business to pry.

He wondered if Hongjoong got sulky like that whenever something upsets him.

It was a new side of him that Seonghwa had never seen before (and wasn’t ready for, frankly).

With the way Hongjoong expressed himself with various facial expressions (mostly just forms of happiness up until now), Seonghwa should’ve expected his sadness to be just as transparent. 

The blue-haired boy was basically an open book.

Seonghwa didn’t like seeing a sad Hongjoong though.

◆◆◆◆

A pop quiz in bio was the last thing Seonghwa was ready for.

His vision was glazing over and his eyelids felt heavy, ready to fall shut at any moment. Fuzziness was swirling around his head, making it harder for him to concentrate on the questions showing on his laptop.

He furiously rubbed his eyes and mentally slapped himself to stay awake and focus.

He had practically gone to bed at the ass crack of dawn because he stayed up to finish assignments and write notes. He couldn’t let himself get behind on schoolwork.

He would have been able to sleep earlier if he didn’t have a shift to work beforehand, but alas he had no other choice.

And now the lack of sleep was fucking him over.

The pop quiz was based on the new content the professor had recently begun teaching, so Seonghwa hadn’t spent enough time studying it on his own as he had other things to revise first.

Which meant he was totally going to fail this quiz.

Crying internally, he answered the questions as best as he could, bullshitting the ones his mind drew a blank on.

 _A bad quiz score won’t fuck up my whole grade. A bad quiz score won’t fuck up my whole grade. A bad quiz score won’t fuck up my whole grade_ —

When class finally ended, he dragged his feet out of the building, his mind and body feeling heavier than when he entered.

He trudged all the way to the library and surprise woke him up at the sight of Hongjoong already standing at the front.

It was always Seonghwa who would be waiting for Hongjoong, not the other way around.

At the sight of Seonghwa drawing near, Hongjoong zoomed forward and clutched Seonghwa’s arm with both hands, startling the older.

“Guess what, guess what, guess what, guess what,” the repeated words fell out of Hongjoong’s mouth quickly as he literally vibrated with excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“What?” Seonghwa asked, letting Hongjoong physically drag him to the doors by holding his arm hostage.

“Guess!” Hongjoong exclaimed.

He really did like having people guess, didn’t he?

Seonghwa stumbled forward from the tugging. “You know I’m terrible at guessing.”

“Okay, then I’ll just tell you inside!”

Luckily, they only had to wait a couple minutes before a group of students left a study room so Hongjoong rushed inside to claim it with quick strides.

“Sit! Sit!” Hongjoong waved his hand to urge Seonghwa to hurry.

His movements had an extra flair to them today, telling Seonghwa that something really good must have happened.

Seonghwa—still tired from the lack of sleep—moved sluggishly as he shut the door and shrugged his backpack off.

The moment Seonghwa sat on the chair, Hongjoong began spewing.

“Okay, so remember the stray cat I told you about?”

Seonghwa nodded.

“I came to visit it today and it finally let me pet it!” Hongjoong said ecstatically, his eyes shining with joy.

“Oh my god, that’s great!” Seonghwa tried to match his enthusiasm the best he could through his lethargy. “I’m happy for you.”

“That’s not even the best part,” Hongjoong whipped out his phone and started tapping through it. “I took pictures and you _have_ to see how cute it was.”

The younger nearly threw himself over the table to sit in the chair next to Seonghwa, wiggling the chair closer until it left no room between his chair and Seonghwa’s. “Look!”

The phone was extended out so Seonghwa didn’t have to crane his neck to see the small, fluffy cat tilting its head into Hongjoong’s palm, eyes closed shut.

It was the cutest fucking thing Seonghwa had ever seen.

“Right?! It was so so precious and tiny and fluffy,” Hongjoong gushed.

Seonghwa didn’t realize he said that out loud.

Hongjoong’s thumb slid across the screen to show another picture. This one showed the cat putting its tiny paw onto Hongjoong’s (also tiny) hand and its eyes were open, displaying its round blue eyes.

“My heart is in pieces,” Hongjoong zoomed into the cat’s face. “I wanna take him home.”

“I told you not even a cat could hate you,” Seonghwa said before a vibration in his pocket startled him.

His heart plummeted in his chest once he read the notification.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

“What?” Hongjoong asked, brows pulled together in concern.

Apprehension flooded his body as he grit his teeth. “I’m so fucked,” he mumbled, logging into the grading website. 

He scrolled across the screen rapidly, looking for the updated grade.

His pounding heart nearly stopped.

Seonghwa slammed his phone on the table, causing Hongjoong to flinch, and buried his face in his arms that he had rested on the surface.

Then he let out a muffled yell.

“Can...can I ask what happened?” Hongjoong asked timidly, as if he was afraid he would set Seonghwa off.

Seonghwa angled his face so his voice wouldn’t sound muffled. “I had a pop quiz in bio today and it just got graded,” he explained. “And I fucking failed it.”

Hongjoong was silent for a few seconds. “I’m really sorry about that.” Seonghwa could hear the frown in Hongjoong’s tone. “But you’ll have assignments, tests, and other quizzes to make up for it, right?”

“Yeah, but…” Seonghwa sighed heavily. “It still hurts to see that I failed.”

“It’ll be okay. It’s only one quiz, after all,” Hongjoong rested his palm on Seonghwa’s back before giving it a few comforting pats. “You’ll do better next time.”

Seonghwa knew that. He knew one little quiz wasn’t going to majorly affect his overall grade, but he still felt disappointed in himself.

He slowly straightened up and stared up at the ceiling. “I didn’t even have time to study for it,” he told Hongjoong. “I went to bed at five in the fucking morning today—staying up to catch up on homework and notes after work. I’m used to sleeping late since I always get home around two after my shift, but never when I can see the sun rising.”

Hongjoong nodded to show he was listening.

“So I didn’t have time to study the new content and I had to take that quiz when I’m literally on the verge of passing out,” Seonghwa continued. Anger began bubbling inside him. “And for what? For a stupid diploma? For a major I don’t give a fuck about, all because my parents—”

He stopped, realizing he rambled on for too long. Hongjoong wasn’t his therapist. He didn’t need to be subjected to Seonghwa’s anger that was fueled by his tiredness.

He didn’t even know how he reached this point of his rant.

“Your parents...?” Hongjoong asked, treading carefully.

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa shook his head. “I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Hongjoong adjusted himself so his body would face Seonghwa. “If venting will make you feel better, then I’m all ears.”

Seonghwa sighed. “I don’t wanna load my emotional baggage on you.”

“I have two hands for a reason,” Hongjoong held up his hands, giving a small smile.

Seonghwa couldn’t help but huff in amusement. The joke was so dumb, but it was so _Hongjoong_.

“I wanted to study something else, but my parents thought it was ridiculous,” he began. “They immediately shut down the idea and wouldn’t listen to a word I said.”

Memories of the day he argued with his parents about what _he_ wanted to do—not what his parents wanted him to do—replayed in his mind.

He couldn’t forget how angry his parents got.

“I wanted to go to this school to feel free from them, but they didn’t like that. They didn’t want me to go here and the only way they would let me was if I majored in bio since they think I’ll get a ‘real job’ that way,” he rolled his eyes, bending his fingers in air quotations.

“That’s...that’s so….” Hongjoong couldn’t find the words.

Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest. “Believe me, I know. But it’s not like I can do anything about it now when it’s already my third year.”

It was the sad truth to his reality.

Time and money were already being spent for his education, so he might as well continue until the end, no matter how much he didn’t like it.

“What did you originally want to study?”

Seonghwa paused. “I…..It’s…..”

It was an innocent question and Hongjoong was merely curious.

But Seonghwa….

He had never told anyone what he truly wanted to study (besides his parents).

He wasn’t technically _ashamed_ of it, but...

“Do you think I’ll make fun of you for it?” 

Hongjoong was more perceptive than Seonghwa thought.

Hongjoong didn’t sound or look accusatory, as if he was offended that Seonghwa would ever think he would make fun of him.

He looked….sad. Like the thought of other people laughing at Seonghwa for it hurt him.

Seonghwa could see every emotion on Hongjoong’s face. He didn’t hold anything back.

“No,” Seonghwa answered after a few moments. “I don’t think you would.”

Hongjoong looked relieved and he waited, patient as ever.

“I wanted to be a baker,” Seonghwa admitted, staring straight at the wall to avoid Hongjoong’s gaze. 

Baking was something he was always drawn to. As a child, he helped his mom bake different treats for her potlucks until he started trying it out on his own. He found baking beautiful, to be honest. There was so much more to it than what people generally thought of it and Seonghwa was fascinated by the intricacy.

It thrilled him when a recipe worked out well. It made him even happier when others enjoyed what he made, happy that he was able to brighten their moods.

Whenever he was upset, he could just focus on making something to distract himself. And he would have something delicious to eat, so it was a win-win.

He waited for Hongjoong to point and laugh at him, call it dumb, claim that Seonghwa was joking around, say that he couldn’t possibly be serious, say his parents were right about studying biology—just…. _anything_ that proved Seonghwa wrong about what the kind of person Hongjoong was.

But Hongjoong didn’t do any of that.

Instead, he was just sitting there, listening as he had been.

“That’s actually pretty cool,” he said, much to Seonghwa’s surprise. “It’s not something I expected from you, but it kind of makes a lot of sense now that I think about it.”

“It does?” Seonghwa asked in confusion.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong shrugged casually, as if Seonghwa hadn’t just told him something he never told anyone else—not his closest friends from high school, not even Yeosang. “The cat cookies you made were insanely good _and_ perfectly shaped.”

“But anybody can make those cookies. It’s not that hard if you follow the recipe,” Seonghwa refuted.

It was true. Anybody with careful hands and high attention to detail could’ve made the cookies as well as he did.

“And I saw you watching a cake video the other day,” Hongjoong added.

“You...don’t think it’s dumb?” Seonghwa checked Hongjoong’s expression.

He tried to convince himself that Hongjoong was lying about thinking him wanting to be a baker was cool, but Hongjoong actually seemed genuine.

Hongjoong had never given Seonghwa a reason to believe he was anything but honest.

“Of course not,” Hongjoong reaffirmed. “Why would I insult something you genuinely like to do?”

A mix of emotions swirled within Seonghwa.

He was touched. Really, really touched.

Hongjoong made it seem like not picking on Seonghwa for his interests was the most obvious thing to do.

It may not have been a big deal to Hongjoong, but Seonghwa had gone years without telling anyone his true desire of study.

He had always beat around the bush and acted like biology actually interested him when he would rather strangle it.

But Hongjoong made him feel like it was okay to have his passions. Like it was okay to be open about it.

“Thank you, really,” Seonghwa said softly. “If only I liked bio as much as I like baking, then my stupid quiz score—” he added tersely, still pressed about his grade.

“Let’s not do work today, yeah?” Hongjoong suddenly declared.

“What—”

Hongjoong stood up and went around the table, searching through his bag to pull out his laptop before sliding back into the chair beside Seonghwa.

He booted the device on and the screen lit up, showing a picture of Hongjoong and two other boys. Seonghwa recognized one of them to be the one who came to pick up Hongjoong, but he didn’t recognize the other boy.

“Let me show you the music I’ve been working on,” Hongjoong said as he clicked on a music software. “Just to help get your mind off of it.”

Then he clicked on a file and soon the screen was filled with small colorful bars that covered most of the screen. Seonghwa had no idea how Hongjoong understood how to use the application—all the functions were overwhelming.

He handed Seonghwa a pair of earbuds and looked at him expectantly.

Seonghwa stared at the earbuds. “Is it really okay?”

“Of course it’s fine. I wanna show you,” Hongjoong urged his hand at him.

Hesitantly, Seonghwa took the earbuds and slipped them into his ears before plugging it into the audio jack.

Hongjoong hit the spacebar and trained his focus on Seonghwa.

Beats filled Seonghwa’s ears, soon accompanied by a melody from a piano. He didn’t know much about music technicalities, but whatever Hongjoong did on this track sounded amazing.

The track wasn’t energetic or a cacophony of noises mixed together.

It was pleasing to the ear and calm, but still upbeat enough that Seonghwa could easily bob his head to the rhythm.

Put simply, it sounded really good.

The track ended and Seonghwa pulled out the earbuds.

“What do you think?” Hongjoong asked, appearing somewhat nervous, his eyes tinted with hints of uncertainty.

Why was he nervous?

Hongjoong was talented as hell.

“It’s really good,” Seonghwa said honestly. “ _You’re_ really good. I can see why the school accepted you.”

Hongjoong’s cheeks flushed pink at the compliment and he struggled holding back a smile. “Shut up,” he said, swatting at Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“It’s true! You’re really talented and I’m not just saying that to be nice,” Seonghwa chuckled. “I could honestly fall asleep to it—in a good way! I mean that in a good way,” he hoped Hongjoong didn’t find that offensive.

Hongjoong tilted his head. “Do you still feel tired?”

Seonghwa’s sleepiness had been dormant for a bit since his attention was taken elsewhere, but now that Hongjoong brought it up, his body did still feel worn out.

“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. “But I’ll be okay.”

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Hongjoong suggested.

Seonghwa blinked. “Like right now?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong nodded. “Why not?”

“Because we have class soon?” Seonghwa said slowly. He couldn’t just take a nap literally _right now_ when they still had art history later.

“I’ll wake you up before we have to go,” Hongjoong persisted. He sure was adamant about getting Seonghwa to nap. “You’re tired and a nap would help. You don’t want to be falling asleep in class either.”

“But—”

“And both of us know neither one of us is gonna get any work done now anyway,” Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow.

Seonghwa hated that he made good points.

“Fine. But you better wake me up and not leave me here,” he gave in, his lips shaping into a pout.

“I won’t,” Hongjoong promised. “Now go to sleep or I’ll knock you out myself.”

Seonghwa scooted his chair closer to the table and folded his arms over it. He rested his head, shifting until he found a comfortable position.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he let his body relax and release the tension it was carrying all day.

Seonghwa fell asleep to Hongjoong’s humming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more information about seonghwa has been finally revealed! this chapter really was just a tornado of different emotions haha
> 
> there were some interruptions in my daily life recently but thank you for waiting patiently for this chapter :D
> 
> i'm starting to get impatient at the slow burn but i have to keep telling myself that it'll get to the juicy parts eventually（>﹏<）


	5. Chapter 5

There were many places Seonghwa would rather be on a Friday night and all of them did not include work.

Time seemed to pass even slower and he was about to start crying on the spot, propriety be damned.

It was Friday so people were supposed to be out partying or whatever, but why the ever living fuck was it more busy tonight than his usual shifts?

He took a deep breath, attempting to relieve some stress from the rush hour that finally came to an end (for now).

Two other people were working with him, but the manager insisted for him to stay at the register taking orders. Seonghwa usually switched between taking and making orders, so he didn’t understand why he had to stay at the register.

Did someone file a complaint against him and the way he made drinks?

He thought he was pretty good at it, if not one of the best amongst the other workers.

_ Ding! _

That goddamn doorbell was basically a form of Pavlovlian conditioning to him now, his face automatically shaping into his polite customer service smile.

“Hi, welcome to Twilight Cafe!” Seonghwa announced, his customer service tone switching on. Once he saw who came in, the switch turned off. “Oh, hey Hongjoong.”

Seonghwa was getting used to Hongjoong coming in these days.

“Oh,” Hongjoong blinked in surprise, looking puzzled at the sight of Seonghwa. “What are you doing here?”

But Seonghwa wasn’t used to Hongjoong arriving with another person.

The sandy-haired boy—who Seonghwa recognized was the one who came to pick up Hongjoong that one time—was, put simply, a giant.

His height was even more impressive up close and Seonghwa had to stifle a giggle from how comical the height difference between the giant and Hongjoong was.

“I work here?” Seonghwa replied, confused by Hongjoong’s question.

“No, I mean—I don’t….you—” Hongjoong sputtered. He quickly pressed his lips together to stop his blabbering. “I mean,” he tried again. “I thought you didn’t work on Fridays.”

Seonghwa shrugged. “I didn’t, but I picked up another shift so here I am.”

After the phone call with his mom about tuition, he asked his manager if he could be slotted in for Fridays now. 

Working four weekdays was going to be a huge pain in the ass for Seonghwa, but he needed to do anything he could to pick up extra money.

He really needed to start brushing up on his time management skills before his schoolwork ate him alive.

Seonghwa missed the way Hongjoong’s friend was whipping his head back and forth between the two, watching their conversation like it was a volleyball match.

“So you’re Seonghwa?” the giant asked, scanning over Seonghwa’s body.

Seonghwa wasn’t sure how to feel about this...evaluation. “Um, yes, that’s me.”

The giant brought his thumb and forefinger under his chin, nodding thoughtfully at him. “I see, I see.”

Seonghwa looked to Hongjoong for help.

“Mingi, stop being weird,” Hongjoong sighed before jerking his head towards said man. “This is Mingi, my roommate.”

“Nice to meet you,” Seonghwa inclined respectfully.   
“Nice to finally meet you too!” Mingi beamed, his eyes almost disappearing.

What did he mean by “finally”?

“So,” Mingi placed his hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Are you single? Does height matter to you?”

What the fuck?

“I’m not hitting on you, by the way,” Mingi waved his hands rapidly as if he could physically make misunderstandings disappear. “Trust me, I’m only asking for scientific purposes.”

How was Seonghwa supposed to respond to  _ that _ ?

With horrified eyes, Hongjoong whacked Mingi’s shoulder, jaw dropping. “Mingi!” he said, offended (probably on Seonghwa’s behalf). “You can’t ask him stuff like that when you just met him!”

Mingi rubbed the pained area and pouted. “Why not? I just wanted to collect some data.”

“I am so sorry about him,” Hongjoong directed at Seonghwa, cheeks flared from embarrassment. “He’s an idiot and I can’t take him anywhere.”

_I think I understand why Hongjoong didn’t want me to come to his apartment_ _that time_.

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa offered a light smile to ease Hongjoong’s embarrassed state. “Are you ready to order?”

Hongjoong seemed relieved that Seonghwa didn’t question Mingi’s sanity.

He relayed the orders for Seonghwa to enter into the machine.

“Your total is 9.32,” Seonghwa read from the screen.

Mingi turned his head and looked at Hongjoong expectantly.

Hongjoong side eyed him—also not budging.

Then he groaned, throwing his head back, and flipped his wallet open.

“You said you were paying this time,” he grumbled, handing Seonghwa some bills.

“I left it in the car,” Mingi cheekily smiled, satisfied with himself.

Seonghwa chuckled at the interaction and gave back the change. “Your number is 736, it’ll be called when it’s ready.”

“Thank you,” Hongjoong said. Then he scrunched his nose at Mingi while heading to a table nearby.

Mingi gave Seonghwa another quick once-over and smiled mysteriously to himself again.

Seonghwa shook off whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean so he could switch on his customer service mode for the customers who just walked in.

He had just finished up with a customer when he heard Hongjoong’s voice.

“I think I’ll stay for a bit more,” he said. “I have some work to catch up on and I might as well get it done now.”

Hongjoong and Mingi chose a table that was pretty close to the register, so it wasn’t hard to hear their conversation.

Mingi stared at the car keys dangling from Hongjoong’s outstretched hand. “But what about you? How will you get home?”

“I’ll walk,” he answered and urged the keys into Mingi’s hand. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But it’s dangerous at night! What if you get kidnapped?” Mingi refuted, baffled at Hongjoong’s desire to walk home alone in the middle of the night.

Seonghwa couldn’t blame Mingi—it was midnight right now and it was more logical for Hongjoong to come home safely with Mingi.

“What if you get sold to the black market? I don’t have enough money to buy you back!” Mingi continued.

“I’ll be  _ fine _ ,” Hongjoong affirmed. “I’ll call an Uber then, okay?”

Mingi stared at the keys in his hand and pouted. “Fine, but you better text me when you’re on your way home,” he jabbed a finger at Hongjoong’s chest.

Hongjoong made a face and pushed Mingi’s hand aside. “I will, I will. Now go home and don’t eat the rest of my chips!”

They waved goodbye until Mingi was out of sight and Hongjoong adjusted himself to sit facing the register, pulling out his laptop and a pair of headphones.

He fell into the rhythm of his own world as his head slightly bopped as he worked. 

Seonghwa had to return to his own world of work when a horde of customers suddenly entered, almost sending him into an out-of-body experience.

After this rush, he’d be one step closer to closing the shop.

A thousand people later (an exaggeration, but it was past midnight, let him be dramatic), the rush finally died down, letting him momentarily drop his customer service mode.

He ran a hand through his hair and cringed at the sweat accumulated on his scalp.

Sweaty scalp, legs on the verge of giving out, sore shoulders, and drooping eyes—Seonghwa was worn out.

(Taking a nap on the floor was looking really good right now.)

His gaze wandered to the table Hongjoong was at and surprise hit him to see Hongjoong already looking back at him.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened before blinking away rapidly, darting back to his screen like he got caught staring.

Why wasn’t Hongjoong going home yet?

It was thirty minutes until closing and the longer Hongjoong stayed out, the more dangerous it would be for him to walk home.

_ Thirty minutes until closing. Thirty minutes until closing. Thirty minutes until closing _ —

If Seonghwa tried hard enough, he could almost imagine his soft blankets scrunching up under his hands.

Nope, that was just a wad of napkins.

He haphazardly flattened out the wrinkles the best he could.

“Seonghwa,” his manager called from behind.

He turned around and followed her into the back room after she signaled him to come in.

He waited for her to speak.

“Why don’t you clock out for the rest of the night?” she suggested.

Seonghwa did a double take. “I’m sorry?”

Clock out? Before closing?

She sighed and rested a hand on her hip. “I know you asked for more shifts, but since this is your first one out of your usual shifts, I’m letting you go home before closing.”

“But…why?” Seonghwa asked in confusion. “Am I not doing a good job?”

No matter how tired he was, he always tried to not let it affect his work.

Maybe someone really did complain about the way he made drinks.

“You’re doing great as always, but you also look like you’re about to drop dead any second, to be honest,” she answered, her eyes full of concern.

Seonghwa wanted to argue back and say that he was perfectly fine, but he knew he seemed more tired than usual.

“The others and I can handle closing, so just go home and rest, alright?” she patted his shoulder briefly before leaving Seonghwa alone in the room.

Maybe it was the fatigue getting to him, but Seonghwa could honestly curl up into a ball and start crying over how nice his manager was.

He removed his apron and gathered his belongings from the storage locker.

Oh, right.

There was something he had to do.

**Seonghwa:** are you free next weekend? i was thinking we could go out for bbq

Hopefully Jaehyuk had a clear schedule so they could catch up on what was going on with their lives. He usually had the more interesting stories compared to Seonghwa anyway.

While walking out behind the counter, he waved to his manager and ignored the scowls sent his way by the other workers, giving him the stink eye for leaving before closing.

He halted in his steps when he saw Hongjoong still sitting, hand propped up under his chin.

He couldn’t let Hongjoong walk home alone at one in the morning. What kind of person would he be?

Winter was nearing, which meant the nights promised cold and chilly air. 

He didn’t know how far Hongjoong lived from campus, but five minutes walking in a winter night was enough to get his ass freezing.

Seonghwa waited until Hongjoong finally noticed him standing there and pulled off his headphones, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Seonghwa held up his car keys.

“What?” Hongjoong blurted.

Seonghwa noticed Hongjoong’s eyes darting to the counter behind him.

“My manager let me off early,” he answered the unspoken question. “And I don’t want you walking home alone at this hour.”

“Aw, I didn’t know you cared,” Hongjoong teased, clicking a few times on his computer before closing it.

“I don’t think Mingi and I would have enough money combined to buy you back from the black market,” Seonghwa said, chuckling as he watched Hongjoong pack his bag.

He slung the strap across his torso, bouncing on his heels to adjust the weight. “Oh come on, I’d probably be worth the same as a cup of coffee.”

“The same as coffee?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “No, you definitely would be worth more than that.”

Hongjoong didn’t hold back his smile, his face brightening up with it. “Are you saying I’m worth thousands or maybe even millions?” he playfully bumped his shoulder into Seonghwa’s as they left the shop.

“Of course, do you know how much a liver is? Or a heart?” Seonghwa unlocked his car. “Those go for a lot legally, you know.”

He shivered at the cold air in his car as he slid into the driver’s seat. He started the engine and immediately turned the heater on.

“I can’t believe you wanted to walk home at this ungodly hour,” Seonghwa commented, pulling the seatbelt on.

Hongjoong shrugged. “I don’t live that far anyway and I’m used to walking.”

“You don’t have a car? Only Mingi?”

“We share one car, so we switch off who gets to use it.”

Seonghwa simply nodded and backed out of the parking space. 

He could understand that. Gas wasn’t the cheapest so they probably saved a lot more money by sharing a car.

“Sorry about Mingi, by the way,” Hongjoong suddenly said. “He really doesn’t mean any harm and I promise he’s more...well-behaved than that...most of the time.”

Seonghwa laughed. “It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting him to say all that.”

Mingi did seem like a friendly guy—weird questions and mysterious glances aside.

“Oh, turn left here,” Hongjoong added. “I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable too.”

After turning the wheel, Seonghwa quickly glanced at him and noticed his downcast eyes. “It’s no big deal, I wasn’t uncomfortable. He seems like a nice guy.”

“He just says things without thinking sometimes and I can’t believe he really…” Hongjoong gestured with his hands to express his jumble of emotions.

Seonghwa made another turn at the street Hongjoong pointed at.

“It’s honestly okay,” he said with a laugh, trying to show Hongjoong that he really wasn’t offended by Mingi. “I’d like to properly meet him another time when I’m not at work.”

“Really? That would be nice. I’ll make sure to tell Mingi to behave,” Hongjoong said, sounding more lighthearted now. “Turn in right here.”

Seonghwa pulled into the road and slowly drove past the buildings of apartment complexes. He recognized it to be one of the common places for students to live at. Hongjoong wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t live that far.

“My building is here,” Hongjoong said after peering through the window. 

Spinning the wheel, he eased into one of the parking spaces.

“What—” Hongjoong started.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” Seonghwa shut the engine off and removed his seatbelt. When he saw Hongjoong wasn’t moving to get out, he added, “What? There could be a kidnapper lurking in the dark.”

Seonghwa followed Hongjoong until they reached his door, the light above it flickering on automatically, illuminating them in a yellow glow.

“Thank you,” he said, looking down at his hands. “For driving me and walking me to my door. You didn’t have to.”

Seonghwa rocked back and forth on his heels and shrugged. “It’s no problem at all and extra safety never hurts.”

Hongjoong raised his eyes, looking as if he wanted to say something else. But when nothing came out of his mouth, Seonghwa took initiative. “Well, have a good night and get lots of rest, Hongjoong.”

“O-oh yeah,” Hongjoong nodded and fished his house keys from his pocket. He unlocked the door and faced Seonghwa. “You better get twelve hours of sleep,” he jabbed a finger at him with narrowed eyes. He stepped inside and softly added, “Good night.”

Seonghwa waved until the door closed shut and he heard the lock click into place.

Twelve hours of sleep sounded really nice.

◆◆◆◆

The cute sleepy cat was suddenly covered by a blob of pink covering the whole screen.

Seonghwa retracted his head, crossing his eyes to stare at the cup shoved in his face.

“What’s this?” he asked, clicking his phone off and pocketing it.

He’d have to rewatch the cat video later on. Maybe during class.

“A strawberry banana smoothie,” Hongjoong shook the beverage. “It’s for you.”

Gingerly, Seonghwa took the cup, the coldness shocking his fingertips. “Thank you, but...why? What’s the occasion?”

“Just to thank you for driving me home,” Hongjoong answered simply, folding his hands behind his back.

“I already told you it was no big deal,” Seonghwa reiterated, smiling anyway. He took a sip and made a noise at how good it tasted, his eyes lighting up with delight.

It was sweet and had the perfect thickness—not too thick where it would take immense strength to get it through the straw and not too thin where it was basically watery.

“And  _ I  _ told you that you didn’t have to,” Hongjoong grabbed onto Seonghwa’s unoccupied arm and rotated him around to push him towards the library doors.

Seonghwa pulled the door open to let Hongjoong enter first. “We’re done with all the research right?” he lowered his voice, taking another sip.

“Yep, we just have to organize the rest of it on the slides,” Hongjoong led them to the study rooms.

There were more people than usual in the library today, probably due to the chilly weather so students were taking shelter in the warm building.

Unsurprisingly, the study rooms were all full, so they had to wait it out until a group left.

Seonghwa quietly laughed at Hongjoong who had squared his shoulders and put his hands on his hips, peering around with narrowed eyes to assert dominance that the next vacant room would be his and Seonghwa’s.

He leaned against the wall, focusing on inhaling his smoothie.

His tongue mindlessly flicked over his lips to catch the bits that escaped the straw as he pondered over the schoolwork he had to do.

_ Rewrite notes, finish the lab report, submit a response on the discussion board, math homework due in two days, the chem analysis sheet… _

His train of thought stopped upon the sight of Hongjoong staring at him. Well, it looked like he was staring at the smoothie.

“Did you want some?” Seonghwa offered, holding out the cup.

Hongjoong seemed to realize he was staring and rapidly shook his head. “No, no, it’s okay.”

“You sure? You’re the one who bought it anyway.” Hongjoong could take the whole damn drink if he really wanted.

“I’m sure, Seonghwa, I’m okay—Oh! An empty room!” Hongjoong zoomed past him, sending a breeze of air to Seonghwa as he passed.

“I’m thinking about getting a disco ball,” Hongjoong said once Seonghwa closed the door.

Seonghwa scrunched his face at the sudden randomness. “What?”

“A disco ball. I think it would look cool in my living room.”

“Then you should get one,” Seonghwa turned his computer on.

“You think so?” Hongjoong looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“Why not? If it makes you happy, then you should get it.”

Hongjoong hummed in response and the two fell into concentration.

After a while, Seonghwa skimmed through the slides to check for anything out of place until his finger stopped pressing on the arrow key, hovering over it.

“Why is there a sheep on the ninth slide?” he questioned, eyes trained on the tiny image of the fluffy animal pasted in the very corner of the slide.

He easily could’ve missed it if he wasn’t thoroughly examining each slide.

“I might have put it there,” Hongjoong admitted sheepishly. “Can we keep it?”

Seonghwa tilted his head and bit his lower lip. “I don’t know if we should risk getting points docked off for it.”

Hongjoong frowned in defeat and tapped on his keyboard, making the tiny sheep disappear.

“Are we done? Is there anything else to add?” Seonghwa scanned through the slides one more time.

Hongjoong did a good job organizing the images and key points, tying everything together neatly into an aesthetically pleasing layout. He pulled his weight with the organization and art analyses and Seonghwa hoped he wouldn’t disappoint his partner with his own work, no matter how much Hongjoong said that Seonghwa’s analyses were great.

“I think that’s it,” Hongjoong confirmed, nodding. “We just have to practice the presentation now.”

“Lovely,” Seonghwa sighed.

The research was the easy part. The actual presentation was the hard part he dreaded the most.

There was still some time left until they had to go to class, so Seonghwa pulled out his lab notebook. “I’m gonna finish my lab report then.”

“Okay.”

He flipped the notebook open to where he left off and the sight of the report made him want to close it immediately. Fucking chemistry.

Hongjoong’s humming filled the quiet atmosphere as Seonghwa concentrated on writing about what his data represented.

In the grand scheme of the universe, did the data  _ really _ mean anything?

His pen glided smoothly across the page, recalling what Yunho had told him to write down. Comparing reports with him last time for the spectroscopy lab resulted in a good grade, so he made a mental note to ask Yunho to compare again later.

It wasn’t until Seonghwa cracked his neck that he noticed the silence in the room, the humming ceased.

That was when he felt a pair of eyes burning on him too.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, flipping to the previous page to note one of the calculations.

“I’m not staring,” Hongjoong denied.

Seonghwa wrote another sentence. “Yes, you are, I can feel it,” he said, finally lifting his head to raise an eyebrow.

Did he have something on his face?

For a quick second, Hongjoong seemed flustered—if Seonghwa was reading his expression right, but he probably was since Hongjoong was an open book—but he recovered with a determined glint.

“So what if I am? Does it bother you?” he pushed his computer to the side to rest his forearms on the table, leaning forward a bit.

This side of Hongjoong was rare, but not new to Seonghwa. It was this side of him where confidence surged out of nowhere, rendering Seonghwa somewhat speechless to the sudden boldness.

“Um, no?” Seonghwa’s voice rose at the end like he was asking a question because he wasn’t sure himself. “But if I have something on my face then…”

Hongjoong regarded him for a moment. “There  _ is _ something on your face.”

Immediately, Seonghwa’s hands patted over his face, checking if there were any smoothie remnants around his mouth or maybe a fallen eyelash on his cheek.

“It’s…” Hongjoong began before he deflated, the fire dying down in his eyes. “Never mind. There’s nothing.”

Oh.

Seonghwa felt like an idiot.

He grabbed his beverage and took a long sip out of awkwardness.

“Do you wanna...head to class now?” Hongjoong jabbed a thumb towards the door.

“Sure,” Seonghwa nodded.

They left the room, weaving through the tables and chairs in the library.

A blast of chilly air hit the both of them in a wave the moment Seonghwa opened the door.

The sky was still a gloomy gray, but the temperature had dropped a bit while they had been working.

“Jesus, fuck,” Hongjoong breathed, crossing his arms over himself in attempt to retain heat.

Seonghwa shivered as icy needles pricked at his exposed skin where his jacket didn’t cover, feeling his cheeks beginning to numb.

The smoothie in his hand was feeling extra cold now that Seonghwa was exposed to the freezing air.

“Let’s start walking before my joints freeze in place,” Seonghwa said, closing his jacket to keep out the breeze.

It wasn’t officially winter yet, so the weather had no business being this cold this early.

He hoped today was just one of those random cold days and then the weather will return to normal.

He didn’t really mind the temperature, but if the chilly days were going to start coming early, that guaranteed unpredictable behavior for Twilight Cafe.

Either less people came in since winter nights were the coldest (and nobody wanted to purposely suffer like that) or more people came in to warm themselves with a warm cup.

But with either result, the same fate for Seonghwa was at hand.

He’d be hit with temperature that rivaled Antarctica whenever he left work to go home.

“Uhh,” Hongjoong voiced.

They had reached the building where their class was held, but instead of just a few students loitering around like usual, there were a lot more people outside, standing around or sitting on the benches.

Seonghwa recognized some of them from the class.

“I think the door is locked,” Seonghwa said, observing how the door was shut and no one made a move to open it.

Hongjoong kicked at the ground. “Well, that’s fantastic. I’m freezing my ass off.”

“It feels like the ninth circle of hell.”

“You’ve been there?”

“Yeah, I visited last summer. Got a tour and everything. You?”

“Satan left me on read.”

A few seconds passed before Hongjoong let out a laugh, scrunching his nose, and Seonghwa’s lips turned up into an amused smile.

Did the sun come out for a brief moment?

A breath of wind washed over them and Seonghwa felt like he was a step closer to becoming a human popsicle.

He was going to have to start checking the weather before leaving the house now to be dressed properly.

His body reeled to the side as Hongjoong latched onto his arm, hugging it to his chest and pressing closely to Seonghwa’s side.

Seonghwa looked down, bewildered, and froze at the sudden contact.

“Sorry, but not really since I can’t feel my legs anymore,” Hongjoong spoke, squishing his cheek against Seonghwa’s shoulder to absorb his body heat.

Seonghwa let him keep his arm hostage since the warmth emanating from Hongjoong was bringing some life back into him.

He really was starting to feel warmer now, their combined body heat fighting against the chilly breeze that tried to freeze their limbs in place.

“I heard shorter people were generally warmer since their body heat is more compressed,” Seonghwa idly commented. “Ow!”

He rubbed his abdomen where Hongjoong had smacked him.

“At least I’m more down to Earth.”

“...Did you just make a short joke about yourself?”

Hongjoong shrugged. “I may be 172 centimeters, but in my heart I’m 182.”

“Oh, the door just opened,” Seonghwa said as students began filing in to escape the cold.

He expected Hongjoong to let go of his arm so they could walk normally to the door, but Hongjoong hugged it even tighter, pulling Seonghwa with him.

“You know, it would be easier to walk if you let go,” Seonghwa almost tripped over his feet from how close Hongjoong’s own legs were as they walked.

Hongjoong shook his head and pointedly rubbed his cheek against Seonghwa’s shoulder to emphasize that he wasn’t going to release him. “I can almost feel my fingers again, keep it moving.”

◆◆◆◆

If Seonghwa could do a triple axel right now, he totally would.

Once his eyes landed on the beautiful 90%, it took all of his willpower to not start punching the air out of happiness after finding out he did well on the newest pop quiz.

Bio can kiss his ass all it wants.

And staying up late to review in preparation of another pop quiz had actually paid off. Now if pop quizzes weren’t going to become a recurring thing then that would be the icing on the cake.

Adrenaline was running through his veins and it felt like his feet barely touched the ground, his heart singing with joy.

Oh!

He should tell Hongjoong about it!

After embarrassing himself for being upset over a measly score last time, telling Hongjoong about this improved grade seemed like a great idea.

But before he went ahead and texted Hongjoong with a screenshot of the grade accompanied by an excited keyboard smash, Seonghwa decided on treating himself with a well-deserved beverage from Twilight.

With a skip in his steps, he bounded his way towards the coffee shop, thinking about what he should order.

He stopped mid-step at the sight of familiar blue hair.

Hongjoong was sitting at one of the outdoor tables outside of the cafe with a black-haired boy, conversing with one another.

Seonghwa didn’t recognize who the other boy was, but they seemed comfortable with each other, judging by the way Hongjoong laughed at something he said while holding onto the boy’s shoulder for support.

It was a familiar sight that Seonghwa often saw from Hongjoong when they hung out together.

Seonghwa spun on his heel and retreated to the direction he came from.

He shouldn’t interrupt their conversation, especially when he didn’t know who the other person was—it would be really awkward for the both of them and Seonghwa didn’t want to put himself in that situation.

Hongjoong having friends shouldn’t be a surprise. It wasn’t.

He was friendly and outgoing, so it was a given that he knew a lot of people and hung out with them outside of the times he was with Seonghwa.

There was a difference between knowing it and actually seeing it though.

Hongjoong having a social life didn’t bother Seonghwa. He was his own person, after all.

But why was there a sinking feeling in his chest after seeing Hongjoong laugh comfortably around someone else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mingi finally enters the scene!! poor seonghwa feeling confused and lowkey creeped out by him 
> 
> and the disco ball and sheep thing were completely random, i wrote that part at like 3am and idk it seemed fun to add in at that time haha
> 
> i'm super excited for the next chapter so please look forward to it !!
> 
> (if you don't follow me on twitter, i started a seongsang enemies to lovers social media fic there! i update it daily so if you want something to read while waiting for new chapters of this fic, then it's a good option *wink wink*)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is folks, the obligatory classic college party chapter hohoho  
> content warnings for alcohol drinking (it’s a college party ofc) and drunken behavior

For someone who claimed to not come to Twilight often, Hongjoong sure came often these days.

Sometimes he ordered something, other times he didn’t.

But he would always sit at a table with his computer propped open, sometimes with headphones in, while facing the counter.

Sometimes Hongjoong would wave at Seonghwa when they accidentally locked eyes, other times Seonghwa would simply observe Hongjoong be in his own world.

He didn’t mean to be a creep, his eyes honestly landed on him unintentionally, but there was something calming about watching Hongjoong just...be.

When a pair of headphones covered Hongjoong’s ears, a range of emotions always fluctuated across Hongjoong’s face.

A frown on his lips, eyebrows pulled together, a hand ruffling his hair—frustration when something wasn’t going the way he wanted.

Widened eyes, mouth forming an ‘o’—surprise when something was unexpected, but somehow worked out.

Fire burning in his eyes, determination sneaking through his lips, shoulders hunched forward closer to the screen—excitement when things were pulling together.

A gentle smile, body slightly swaying from side to side, eyes peacefully shut—relaxation when the results turned out well.

At least, those were what Seonghwa assumed when he saw the many faces of Hongjoong.

_Ding!_

Seonghwa almost didn’t recognize the boy in front of him.

Key word: almost.

If it weren’t for the big doe eyes, Seonghwa wouldn’t have recognized Yunho.

“Nice hair,” Seonghwa complimented, staring at the freshly dyed pink hair.

“Thanks!” Yunho said cheerfully, lifting a strand up. “I wanted to do something spontaneous, so I’m trying out pink hair.”

Seonghwa scrutinized the strands. “Did your hair become crispy at all? Or dry from the bleach?”

“Not at all,” Yunho shook his head. “I’m using this fancy conditioner so it’s extra soft. Feel it!”

Yunho lowered his head to show off his hair that resembled cotton candy.

Seonghwa reached out and lightly ran his thumb and forefinger along a clump, marveling at the way it slipped through his fingers easily.

“Oh wow,” Seonghwa mused, impressed. “Very soft.” 

That was some good-ass conditioner.

“Right?!” Yunho emphasized.

Then Seonghwa realized where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. “Sorry, what did you want to order?”

“Oh yeah!” Yunho laughed at himself for getting sidetracked. “I’m feeling...an iced salted caramel mocha today. And can I get extra whipped cream?”

They completed the transaction and Yunho wandered to the side, peering into the display case of baked goods, as Seonghwa wiped around the register (just to give his hands something to do).

With his focus on the table, Hongjoong’s gaze on him went unnoticed.

“Hey, Yunho, are you going to the party?” Wooyoung spoke, pumping toffee syrup into a cup.

Yunho’s head perked up. “The one this Friday? Yeah, I’m going. Are you?”

Since when did Wooyoung and Yunho know each other?

Seonghwa wasn’t aware that they knew of each other’s existence, but it did make sense considering how Wooyoung knew _everybody_.

“Of course I am!”

“What about you, Seonghwa?” Yunho asked, switching his attention.

Seonghwa pointed a finger at himself. “Me? No, never,” he shook his head.

He tried going to a party once during his first year, but it didn’t leave a good impression on him.

College parties were just large gatherings of sweaty drunk people who had little to no shame about their actions.

And he really did not want to be caught in an embarrassing situation.

Besides, he was always too busy with homework and work to even consider going to another party.

“Seonghwa never goes to parties. He’s like a grandpa,” Wooyoung teased.

“Really? Never?” Yunho seemed surprised.

Seonghwa shook his head again.

“You should go to the one this Friday then,” Yunho suggested. “You don’t wanna look back on your college years when you’re old and crusty and regret not going to _at least_ one party.”

Seonghwa was sure he wouldn’t regret it when he became old and crusty.

“No, I really don’t—” 

“That’s a great idea!” Wooyoung interrupted. He swirled some more whipped cream on top of the white mountain, spilling some onto the counter, prompting Seonghwa to give him a scolding look.

“Parties really aren’t my thing,” Seonghwa huffed.

Wooyoung capped the beverage and handed it to Yunho. “Please,” he begged Seonghwa. “You can stick with me if you want.”

It still sounded like a terrible idea.

" _No,_ " Seonghwa rejected. “Besides, I work on Friday nights anyway.”

“You do? Since when?” Wooyoung scrunched his face.

“Since recently. So unless you can find someone to cover my shift then…”

“Really? If I find someone to cover your shift, you’ll come?” Wooyoung said eagerly.

Shit.

Seonghwa shouldn’t have said that.

He looked at Wooyoung carefully. “Tomorrow is Friday and I highly doubt you’ll find anyone willing to cover with late notice.”

Wooyoung’s eyes lit up with the new challenge. He swiped his phone out and began typing aggressively.

“There’s no way—” Seonghwa started, but stopped when Wooyoung shoved his phone in his face.

“Done,” Wooyoung said, smirking.

Seonghwa read the texts, dread filling his chest when he saw “ _yeah i can cover, no prob_ ”.

“I still won’t go,” he refuted. He wouldn’t let Wooyoung win this easily.

“What if I...buy you dinner too?” Wooyoung bargained.

Dammit, he knew exactly how to strike.

Seonghwa could probably just stay for around five minutes and then slip out of the party. He doubted Wooyoung would watch him like a hawk....

“Please please please please please,” Wooyoung pestered, bouncing on his heels and pouting in an attempt to appeal to Seonghwa. “Just one single party, that’s all, just one—I’ll give you my family’s inheritance—”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “ _Fine_ , I’ll go,” he gave in.

It was hard saying no to Wooyoung.

“Yay!” Wooyoung cheered along with Yunho, who pumped his fists in the air, his cheeks full of his drink.

He already knew he was going to regret saying yes.

“I’ll see you both there then!” Yunho said, waving goodbye.

Seonghwa faced Wooyoung. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” Wooyoung quipped, smiling victoriously.

“Go clean some tables,” Seonghwa tried to sound stern, but failed miserably as Wooyoung looked a little too pleased with himself, skipping away with a wet rag in hand.

Seonghwa focused his attention on the syrup rack, discerning which ones he had to replace.

He was in the middle of unscrewing the pump off the caramel syrup bottle when Hongjoong strode up to the pick-up counter.

“Hey,” Hongjoong greeted.

“Hey,” Seonghwa said without looking up. “How’s your...whatever you’re doing going?”

He could see Hongjoong nodding his head from his peripherals. “Good, good. So, uh, that guy was pretty tall.”

“Yunho? Yeah, I think he’s the same height as Mingi,” Seonghwa mused, crouching to retrieve a new bottle from the lower rack.

“Oh, maybe,” Hongjoong tapped his fingers against the table as Seonghwa cleaned out the pump at the sink.

“So...is his height an ideal one for you?” Hongjoong asked nonchalantly.

Seonghwa paused to consider it. “You mean if I had Yunho’s height? I think my height is good where it’s at now.”

He didn’t have any issues with his own height—it was just fine for him.

He was tall enough to reach high shelves, but not too tall where he had to duck under door frames to avoid hitting his head.

Hongjoong was silent for a few moments.

“He has some pretty cool hair too.”

“It’s my first time seeing his hair so bright,” Seonghwa replied as he twisted the pump into the new bottle of caramel syrup before placing it back onto the rack.

“So you liked it? His dyed hair?” Hongjoong leaned forward, splaying his palms out to support him.

“It’s a nice color on him,” Seonghwa’s mind recalled how well the pink shade suited Yunho.

“Do...do you prefer dyed hair? Or all natural? I know some people….some people like natural shades more.”

Seonghwa didn’t understand why Hongjoong kept asking for his opinion on hair. 

But if this was Hongjoong’s way of distracting himself to take a break from his own work, then Seonghwa would go along with it.

“I don’t have a strong opinion on either one,” Seonghwa shrugged. “You already know I’ve never done anything to my hair.”

“But what about on other people? Which do you prefer?” Hongjoong asked, seeming more urgent this time with how focused his eyes were.

Seonghwa blinked.

Was Hongjoong having some sort of hair crisis or something?

Was this his way of projecting his crisis?

“I don’t think I have a right to judge what people do to their hair,” Seonghwa said slowly and carefully. “If they want to style or dye it how they want, they should do it if it makes them happy.”

That seemed to lessen the tenacious look in Hongjoong’s eyes.

“Of course,” Hongjoong said, resigned. “You’re right.”

“Is...everything okay?” Seonghwa asked hesitantly.

If Hongjoong was going through a hair crisis, Seonghwa would listen and try to help to the best of his ability.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong gave a tight-lipped smile. The warm lighting of the cafe washed out his flushed cheeks. “I think I’ll go home now, it’s getting late.”

“Oh, okay. Have a nice night and get home safely,” Seonghwa gently smiled.

Hongjoong nodded. “You too.”

Seonghwa turned away from the counter, almost jumping from seeing Wooyoung suddenly standing there, shaking his head.

“You are so stupid,” Wooyoung remarked with exasperation heavy in his tone, brushing past him.

◆◆◆◆

Seonghwa honestly forgot about the party until he heard Wooyoung nearly breaking down his door from how hard he was banging at it.

Gripping the doorknob, Seonghwa swung it open to reveal a grinning Wooyoung.

His hair was styled in subtle waves, parting in the middle and pushed away from his face. He was clad in a simple black T-shirt that was tucked into a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a thin black choker and chain adorned his neck.

His smile dropped as his eyes trailed over Seonghwa’s figure, taking in his attire.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going dressed like _that_.”

Seonghwa frowned, looking down at his monochrome pajamas. “I forgot I was being dragged to a large social gathering where I will mostly likely hate myself for the entirety of the time I’m there.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Wooyoung said flippantly, stepping into the apartment. “Where’s your room? Over here?”

It was Wooyoung’s first time being in Seonghwa’s apartment, yet he was already making himself at home.

Seonghwa padded into his room and found Wooyoung sifting through his closet with an analytical gaze.

“No, no, no, oh _God no_ , no, no, nope, why do you even own this?” Wooyoung muttered to himself. “Why don’t you have anything...interesting?”

“You’re just being picky,” Seonghwa flopped himself over his bed.

“Oh, this works.”

“Ow!”

Seonghwa removed the offending item off his face and held it up. It was a simple black button-up that he had worn only a few times—he actually forgot he owned it.

“Wear that with some nice black pants. Preferably skinny so you can show off your ass.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

He was already regretting saying yes to the party.

“Just be wild for once, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung said as he left the room to give him privacy.

It took Seonghwa a solid three minutes to gather up the energy to take off his pajamas and slip on the button-up, rolling up the sleeves a bit and tucking it under a pair of black jeans as Wooyoung had instructed.

He opened the door, expecting Wooyoung to be waiting outside so he could splay out his arms with a “You happy now?” but instead he was met with a Wooyoung-less hallway.

He found the younger in the bathroom searching through the drawers under the sink, picking up items and putting them down with a frown.

“Uh, can I help you?” Seonghwa asked, watching Wooyoung pull back the mirror to scope out the cabinet behind it.

“Looking for some hair products,” Wooyoung held up a bottle of hairspray and stared at it before setting it down on the sink.

“But your hair is already styled.”

“Not for me, idiot, for _you_.”

“Me?”

“I’m not letting you go out looking the same as you always do. Let your forehead breathe a little, dude.”

Instinctively, Seonghwa reached up to pat his fringe. His forehead can breathe just fine, thank you very much.

Wooyoung straightened up and pointed at the hairspray, looking somewhat disappointed. “Is this really all you have?”

To be fair, Seonghwa had only bought the hairspray a long while ago when he wanted to experiment styling his hair. But his hands were clumsy and he never managed to make his hair look….decent so naturally he gave up, leaving the bottle of hairspray long forgotten.

But before he could respond, Wooyoung grabbed his wrist and dragged him to sit on the (thankfully closed) toilet seat.

“Please don’t ruin my hair,” Seonghwa said, warily eyeing the hairspray in Wooyoung’s hand.

“I know what I’m doing,” was the last thing Wooyoung said before getting to work.

Seonghwa was slightly afraid of Wooyoung poking his eye out with the comb on accident, so he shut his eyes and prayed that Wooyoung actually did know what he was doing.

His head tugged from side to side as the comb brushed through the strands, parting his hair. The cold hairspray attacked his hair, particles falling into his face as he told himself to not lick his lips lest he fall victim to the terrible taste of the product.

“Done!” Wooyoung announced and Seonghwa finally opened his eyes. “Wait—”

With concentration on his face, the younger adjusted some strands until he was satisfied.

“Okay, now I’m done!”

Two thoughts ran through Seonghwa’s mind when he saw himself in the mirror.

The first one being _thank god Wooyoung didn’t make my hair all spiked up like a troll_.

The second one was _but why do I look kinda good._

“Wow,” Seonghwa voiced, turning his head to admire Wooyoung’s work.

He had styled Seonghwa’s hair to reveal only half of his forehead, one half pushed to the side and the other falling over the front.

It was simple, but far more than what Seonghwa was used to seeing on himself.

“Good, right?” Wooyoung commented. “You look like a snack—no wait. You look like a _meal_.”

Seonghwa resisted the urge to shove Wooyoung as a defense mechanism to deal with his embarrassment.

“Let’s go already,” he said, leaving to grab his keys. “I assume I’m the designated driver?”

Wooyoung skipped to the front door to slip on his shoes. “Sure, I won’t make you drink if you don’t want to. But I might not be coming back with you tonight.”

Seonghwa groaned at Wooyoung’s implications. “You really did not need to tell me that.”

He heard the party before he saw it.

Even through the rolled up windows, the heavy thumping of music was quite audible and it almost seemed like it made the windows tremble as well.

Piles of cars were lined up along the curb so he had to park farther than he would have liked, forcing him to have a longer walking distance, much to his dismay.

Wooyoung hopped out of the car, vibrating with anticipation and excitement, as Seonghwa begrudgingly exited the vehicle.

The music became blaringly loud when they reached the two-story house and Seonghwa swore he felt the amplified bass in his body, shaking his organs.

How did the neighbors not call for a noise complaint?

Some people were scattered across the front lawn, conversing and laughing with each other with drinks in hand.

Seonghwa had no idea what time the party started, but some people were clearly drunk already.

The moment they entered the house he suddenly wished he didn’t come at all.

“Come on!” Wooyoung yelled over the music, urging him to weave through the fuckton of people taking up most of the space.

As they slipped through the gaps of bodies, Seonghwa noticed some people eyeing Wooyoung up and down, probably finding him alluring to some degree.

He proceeded to ignore the pairs of eyes flicking over his own appearance, feeling a bit too self-aware of the attention he was unintentionally grabbing. 

He was here to make Wooyoung stop telling him he’d regret doing nothing “fun” when he became old and crusty—and to possibly steal snacks if he came across any.

When they reached the kitchen, Wooyoung faced him to say something, but Seonghwa never found out what it was because something caught the younger’s attention over Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“Oh! Hey!” Wooyoung called, raising an arm and moving past him.

 _What_ —

Oh.

Great.

Seonghwa should’ve expected this.

He should’ve expected to be left stranded while Wooyoung went to mingle with people Seonghwa had never seen before.

That made slipping out of the party easier though…

But before he planned his escape, he figured he should try to scope out the place for some snacks or juice boxes since he was already there.

He wandered around, keeping his eyes peeled for a large cooler or just anywhere people were getting their drinks from.

He grimaced at the sight of plastic cups flooding the kitchen counter left unattended, knowing it was gonna be a pain for the house owners to clean it up.

After nearly tripping over someone’s foot that just had to stick out while he was walking, he located a red cooler, partially hidden by someone grabbing a drink from it.

One look into the cooler told Seonghwa everything he needed to know.

Buried throughout the piles of ice were just bottles and cans of various alcoholic drinks.

Damn.

No juice boxes.

Sighing in disappointment, he accepted the fate that he probably wouldn’t be able to swipe anything before he left.

He closed the lid of the cooler and turned around, his lowered gaze meeting a pair of shoes right in front of him. His eyes trailed up the form until he met with familiar eyes.

“Seonghwa?” the boy said.

Seonghwa didn’t hear what he said, but he recognized his name forming from his lips.

Hongjoong looked…..different.

Different from what Seonghwa was used to.

He was used to oversized sweaters and shirts. Berets or bucket hats laying over his blue hair. Cardigans that softened up his appearance.

But the Hongjoong in front of him was on the other end of the spectrum of how Seonghwa usually saw him.

He adorned a leather jacket over a plain black shirt, going for the all-black attire as well. A long silver chain hung around his neck and Seonghwa was slightly concerned whether Hongjoong’s legs could breathe under those ridiculously tight pants.

Instead of a bucket hat or beret on top of his head, a white beanie contrasted against his blue hair.

Hongjoong had styled his hair to be parted away from his face, which wasn’t unusual for Seonghwa to see.

The most surprising thing to see was the dark eyeshadow delicately brushed over Hongjoong’s eyes.

Seonghwa wasn’t sure if this was his first time seeing Hongjoong wearing makeup or not.

From the times Seongha saw Hongjoong, did Hongjoong wear natural makeup often? Or was Hongjoong barefaced all the time?

Seonghwa couldn’t remember.

“Hi,” he greeted lamely, raising his voice so Hongjoong could hear.

God, could someone turn down the music a bit?

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Hongjoong matched his volume, eyes trailing over his body.

Seonghwa took a step closer to ease up his vocal chords. “Yeah, I got dragged here by my coworker. I didn’t know you’d be here either.”

Hongjoong took a sip from his cup (that Seonghwa just noticed), making a face as he swallowed the liquid. “You,” he started. Seonghwa tilted his ear closer. “You look really good.”

Then he lifted his arm to pat the top of Seonghwa’s head twice, giggling to himself in satisfaction.

Was Hongjoong tipsy already?

“You look good too,” Seonghwa returned the compliment like a polite normal human being should. But his eyes moved on its own accord, examining Hongjoong’s appearance again, especially his eyes that were striking with the help of the makeup. “Really good,” his mouth slipped.

That wasn’t a lie or just him being polite.

Hongjoong _did_ look good. Really good. Extremely good.

Seonghwa hadn’t focused on Hongjoong’s appearance that much before—he was aware enough that Hongjoong was cute (Seonghwa wasn’t _blind_ ) and could be considered attractive.

But he had never really looked at Hongjoong and planted in his head the thought that Hongjoong was attractive.

That just wasn’t something he thought about.

But now...even from an objective point of view, Hongjoong looked really fucking good.

At first, Seonghwa wasn’t sure if Hongjoong heard the last part of his compliment, but Hongjoong’s brightening eyes and big smile said otherwise.

“Did you—”

“Yo, Hongjoong! Is that you?” a voice called out, cutting Seonghwa off.

A boy with badly bleached hair sauntered up to them and slapped Hongjoong’s back in greeting.

“It _is_ you! What’s up, dude? Haven’t seen you around for a while,” he continued, taking a big gulp from his bottle of beer.

Hongjoong made a face at the impromptu slap. “Same as usual, you know me.”

“Why don’t you sit by me in art history anymore?” the stranger slung his arm over Hongjoong’s shoulder, tugging him closer. “Your notes were always so easy to look at!”

So Seonghwa was right.

Hongjoong _did_ have friends in that class.

“You’re always watching soccer in class, I can never focus when I’m sitting next to you,” Hongjoong playfully said with a laugh, stumbling a little from the other boy’s careless tugging.

Was that why Hongjoong sat next to Seonghwa?

Because this other guy was simply a distraction in class?

Seonghwa figured that it made sense for him and Hongjoong to sit next to each other since they were actual friends now, but finding out that Seonghwa had been some sort of...replacement—for lack of better word—at the start….

It kind of hurt, not gonna lie.

But he supposed it was what it was.

Hongjoong didn’t see him as a replacement anymore, right?

“Oh,” the boy squinted at Seonghwa, noticing him for the first time despite Seonghwa standing there the entire time. “Who’re you? I’ve never seen you around before and I definitely wouldn’t forget a pretty face like yours.”

Seonghwa did not miss the way the boy was unabashedly checking him out with piqued interest.

(How could he when the boy was really not trying to be subtle at all?)

In the back of his mind, Seonghwa cursed at Wooyoung for ditching him.

Hongjoong threw off the limb around his shoulders before grabbing Seonghwa’s arm, hugging it close like how he did before on that one cold day before class. “He’s my friend,” he said, then he added, “My partner. He’s in art history with us.”

Seonghwa nodded to confirm.

He was indeed in the same class and was Hongjoong’s project partner.

“Ohh, I see,” the boy said, a smirk growing on his face. “I get it—off limits,” he raised his arms up in surrender.

Why was he looking at them like that? Like he knew something Seonghwa didn’t?

Seonghwa couldn’t discern what the boy was thinking, but as long as it got him to stop raking his eyes over Seonghwa like he was a piece of meat, then he wouldn’t get too worked up about it.

“I’ll see you around then,” the stranger raised his bottle with a nod of his head. “Come find me during class sometime, Hongjoong! I miss copying your notes.”

He finally left, hollering at some other people in greeting.

Right, Seonghwa forgot about the sitting-next-to-each-other-in-class thing.

Hongjoong released his arm and turned to face him, examining his expression. “Why are you sad?” he asked (more like yelled), frowning.

“I’m not,” Seonghwa refuted.

Hongjoong set down his cup on the nearby table, pushing against the other cups to make room. Then he pressed both index fingers against the corners of Seonghwa’s lips and pushed upwards. “Smile! No more sad. I like seeing you smile.”

Seonghwa complied, forming a natural smile to entertain this Hongjoong who obviously did not have a completely clear mind now.

“Yay!” Hongjoong cheered, beaming.

Seeing him dressed in a leather jacket with dark makeup, yet grinning like an idiot with his eyes scrunched up was about to give Seonghwa whiplash from the stark difference.

Maybe he really did need a drink, after all.

Hongjoong retrieved his own cup and threw his head back, downing the rest of the liquid as Seonghwa watched with wide, concerned eyes.

He hoped Hongjoong didn’t have bad hangovers.

When Hongjoong lowered the cup, making a noise at the back of his throat, Seonghwa noticed over the younger’s shoulder someone else being careless with their own drink, swishing it around recklessly.

Panic clutched at Seonghwa’s heart when the cup came swinging way too close for comfort towards Hongjoong.

His body reacted before his brain caught up to even form a single thought.

He grabbed Hongjoong’s arm and pulled him close to his side while stepping away from the liquid that escaped the confines of the cup just as it splashed against the ground.

Seonghwa winced at the splatters at the bottom of his jeans.

He turned his attention to Hongjoong to check if he managed to save Hongjoong from an unfortunate accident and was met with a shocked expression.

“Are you okay?” he asked, scanning his eyes over Hongjoong’s jacket for any splashes.

“I’m perfect!” Hongjoong exclaimed. “You were so fast like _woooosh_ and I was like _woahhh_!” he gestured with his hands.

Seonghwa slowly nodded. This Hongjoong was much more animated than what he was used to.

“So!” Hongjoong hugged his arm again, peering up at Seonghwa. “How come I haven’t seen you at any parties before?”

So Hongjoong was the type to be clingy when he drank.

Seonghwa shook his head. “I never go. Do you go to a lot of them?”

He had never thought Hongjoong to be the party-goer type, but then again there were sides of him yet to be discovered.

“Hmm,” Hongjoong hummed, poking at Seonghwa’s cheek and giggling to himself. “Only sometimes!”

And he was the type to act cute, apparently.

“Do you wanna go outside? It’s too loud here,” Seonghwa suggested, looking at Hongjoong’s crimson cheeks.

The night air would probably help Hongjoong’s body cool down from the alcohol, especially since it was warm inside the house with all these people too.

Plus his throat was tired of yelling and he didn’t want to be struggling to hear Hongjoong over the obnoxiously loud music.

“Okay! Lead the way,” Hongjoong declared, but was the one to pull Seonghwa along across the floor.

They made it through only half of the living room when they were stopped again.

But this time it was Yunho jogging up to them, yelling out Seonghwa’s name.

Seonghwa was apprehensive at the liquid sloshing around Yunho’s cup as he ran with a goofy grin and reddened cheeks that showed he had drunk a good amount of alcohol already.

“Seonghwa, my man! Glad to see you here!” Yunho grasped Seonghwa’s shoulder and shook it.

“Hi, Yunho,” Seonghwa returned.

“Where’s Wooyoung? You want me to get you a drink or something?” Yunho asked, whipping his head around in search of the mentioned boy. “Nice hair, by the way. Looks good on you.”

The grip around his arm tightened, causing Seonghwa to remember he was supposed to take Hongjoong outside.

“He ditched me,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “And no, I’m okay, thanks.”

“Cool, cool,” Yunho nodded before drinking from his cup. “Hey, you wanna come watch me play beer pong? We’re placing bets and everyone thinks the other guy is gonna win, but they don’t know I come from a bloodline of pro beer pong players.”

Seonghwa wouldn’t be surprised if his arm fell off from Hongjoong hugging it even tighter than he thought was possible.

“He’s kinda busy right now,” Hongjoong said defensively. 

Yunho seemed to finally notice Hongjoong’s presence. “Oh! Are you Hongjoong? Mingi mentioned you.”

“I am,” Hongjoong lowered his guard. “How do you know Mingi?”

Seonghwa didn’t know Yunho knew Mingi either.

“We met earlier and Mingi said he’s gonna start tutoring me in math!”

Wait…

“But I thought you were good at math? You always said it was easy,” Seonghwa tilted his head in confusion.

“Yeah, but…” Yunho’s eyes began to sparkle as he leaned in closer, holding a hand to his mouth like he was telling a secret. “He’s really cute!”

Oh.

Okay, that made a lot of sense now.

Seonghwa knew Yunho was naturally good at math, being able to grasp new concepts quickly.

He never showed that he struggled with it because he honestly never had trouble at all. Seonghwa was envious of Yunho’s brain, but he was grateful for Yunho's kindness whenever he happily helped Seonghwa when he needed it.

“Congratulations?” Seonghwa said, not knowing how else to respond. “I hope it works out for you.”

“Thanks! I gotta get to my game now and kick some ass—wish me luck!” Yunho chirped before shoving his drink to Seonghwa, forcing him to hastily take it.

So there Seonghwa stood—one arm taken hostage by Hongjoong and the other holding a drink he didn’t know what to do with.

“I’ll just—”

Before he knew it, his hand was empty and Hongjoong was gulping down the beverage.

“Wait—no!” Seonghwa yelped, pulling the cup away before Hongjoong drowned himself in it.

Hongjoong wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Why won’t you let me drink?” he whined, stomping his feet.

“I don’t want you to drink too much and make your hangover worse,” Seonghwa spoke, softening his tone.

He set the cup onto a coffee table and gently tugged Hongjoong along. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

The cool breeze was exactly what Seonghwa needed. Inside the house was so cramped and sweaty, but outside was refreshing.

There were still people hanging around outside, but it was definitely less rowdy.

And more importantly, not as loud.

Fairy lights were strung across the patio, illuminating the backyard in a white glow. Chairs were scattered around over the grass that covered the whole yard.

Seonghwa led Hongjoong (well, Hongjoong was still holding onto his arm so Seonghwa simply walked on his own accord) to a chair that had a cushion resting against it.

“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll find you some water, okay?” Seonghwa motioned to the chair.

“No! Stay here!”

“I’m just gonna find a bottle of water for you, I’ll be back quickly,” he promised, easing Hongjoong into the chair.

With his fists in his lap, Hongjoong looked up with a pout, resembling a cat.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can,” Seonghwa repeated.

When Hongjoong didn’t protest anymore, Seonghwa backed away and slipped back into the house, navigating through bodies and dodging the arms that came flinging out randomly.

He didn’t recall seeing any water bottles in the cooler, but maybe there were some in the refrigerator.

After getting stepped on about fifteen times, he finally reached the fridge, pulling on the handle for the chilled air to greet him.

A plethora of more alcoholic drinks were filled to the brim and it wasn’t until his eyes landed on the very bottom drawer that he located the water bottles.

He quickly grabbed one, the coldness shocking his hand, before shutting the fridge.

As he pushed his way through the crowd again, he wished he was a ghost so he could just pass through without making contact with these people.

He sighed in relief when the breeze fanned across his face.

But alarm raised inside Seonghwa when he noticed Hongjoong’s form being blocked by someone standing in front of him.

He couldn’t hear what the stranger was saying, but judging by Hongjoong’s body language, it couldn’t be good.

“—ook at me when I’m talking to you,” came the gruff voice of the unfamiliar man.

Seonghwa crept closer silently.

At this angle, he could see Hongjoong glaring off to the side, crossing his arms and ignoring the man.

“I said look at me!” the stranger’s hand shot out to grip Hongjoong’s upper arm, roughly forcing him to his feet. “What, can’t even follow simple instructions? No one taught you basic respect?”

Seonghwa quickly decided that he hated this guy.

“Don’t touch me,” Hongjoong spat, shoving the guy’s arm away from him.

“So you’re gonna be like that, huh? I thought you were different, but you’re just like the others—nothing but rude,” he snarled, his words slurring a bit.

Hongjoong’s eyes slowly made contact with the offender, radiating annoyance as his face hardened into a scowl.

“Don’t wanna speak? You didn’t seem to have a problem telling me off last time,” the man taunted.

Hongjoong remained still and continued to glower in silence.

The moment the man’s palm started to raise, Seonghwa stepped in, creating a barrier between Hongjoong and the stranger.

“What’s going on here?” Seonghwa snapped.

Up close, he noticed the man’s unfocused eyes, a sign that he drank too much.

“Who the fuck is this? Your new boy toy?” he sneered, eyeing Seonghwa up and down. “Don’t see what’s so great about you—not much to see.”

Insults like that from strangers—especially drunk strangers—didn’t mean anything to Seonghwa.

He wouldn’t let himself be bothered by what random people he’d never see again had to say about him.

“Leave him alone,” Seonghwa said, his tone icy.

The stranger placed his hands on his hips and leaned forward in a mocking manner. “Or what? What will you do?”

Seonghwa vaguely felt the sensation of Hongjoong pressing a hand against his back.

“I’ll make you regret breathing near him.”

Honestly speaking, Seonghwa didn’t know what he would actually do if the man didn’t back off.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Seonghwa managed to dodge the fist coming straight for his face, holding out his arm to keep Hongjoong behind him.

 _Fuck_.

He really didn’t want to get into a physical fight at some party with a random guy.

Hongjoong gasped sharply as another fist came swinging and his instincts kicked in fast enough for Seonghwa to block the hit with his forearm, clenching his jaw at the impact.

From the corner of his eye, he saw people starting to notice the scuffle and draw closer to take a look.

Quickly, he turned his hand to latch onto the man’s wrist and gathered his strength to throw him back.

The man stumbled over his feet clumsily, running a hand over his face as he seethed with anger.

He let out a growl and took a stance before charging at Seonghwa, drawing a fist back.

Panic seized Seonghwa’s heart as his brain worked 100 miles per hour calculating how to dodge the attack and how much it would hurt if he took the punch.

A flash went by, intercepting the man’s aim, and before Seonghwa knew it, the man was flat on his back, clutching his nose.

The interceptor flexed his fingers, looking down at the man in disgust.

Recognition flashed through Seonghwa’s mind when he saw the newcomer’s side profile, his sharp features accentuated by the shadows of the lights.

It was the same guy he saw Hongjoong talking to on the day he did well on his pop quiz.

“Try something like that again and you’ll get more than a broken nose,” the newcomer threatened.

Seonghwa felt a hand lightly grasping at his sleeve and another hand slipping into his own as Hongjoong huddled closer to him.

The man—the angry, violent one—wobbled to his feet, still pressing his palm to his bloody nose, and scoffed.

Another boy with red hair cut in front of the Angry One. “Dude, I know you’re on probation. You don’t wanna get kicked out, do you?”

Seonghwa had no idea what exactly the guy was on probation for, but he didn’t feel the need to find out as long as it got him off their backs.

The Angry One yielded, irritation heavy on his face. “Fucking crazies,” he muttered before walking away, wavering in his steps.

The crowd that had formed around them broke apart now that the little show was over.

“You okay?” the first interceptor asked, flicking his eyes between Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

“I’m fine,” Seonghwa answered, turning his head back to check on Hongjoong.

He nodded, shifting his hand in Seonghwa’s to get a better grip. “Thanks, San.” Then he added, “And thank you, Jongho.”

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Seonghwa’s heart picked up in pace at the contact, but he shoved the feeling to the side to focus on the matter at hand.

Jongho—the red head—approached closer to them. “No problem. I would’ve decked him myself, but San already got a clean hit on him.”

“Never liked that asshole anyway,” San said, lips curled in disdain. “I don’t think he’ll be bothering you anymore though.”

“And if he does, then you got two bodyguards on your side,” Jongho chimed in before glancing at Seonghwa. “Well, three now.”

“Thank you,” Hongjoong repeated. “I really appreciate it.”

“Well, the night is still young. Don’t let one crazy asshole ruin it!” San slung an arm around Jongho’s shoulders. “See you around!”

Seonghwa watched them leave and a tug to his sleeve brought him back to reality.

“I want to leave,” Hongjoong mumbled.

Perfect—Seonghwa wanted to get the fuck out too.

“Let’s get out of here,” he agreed.

Then he realized something.

“How did you get here? Did you drive or…”

Hongjoong shook his head. “Mingi and I got dropped off.”

“Okay, I drove here with Wooyoung—my coworker—but I highly doubt he’ll need me to give him a ride back so we can just go now.”

He pulled Hongjoong along by their joined hands (since Hongjoong didn’t show any signs of letting go any time soon) and re-entered the house.

Unceremoniously, he shoved his way through the crowd. Seonghwa was not in the mood for more abrupt attacks—physical and verbal.

Hongjoong stuck close to his side, one hand resting on Seonghwa’s forearm for security.

They reached the front lawn and Seonghwa led the way to his parked car as they walked in silence.

A gust of chilled air washed over them, causing a shiver to run through Seonghwa’s body since his thin shirt did nothing to protect him from the wind.

Upon noticing, Hongjoong nestled closer to Seonghwa and gripped his hand tighter.

Seonghwa vehemently ignored the warmth spreading in his chest.

Hongjoong was most definitely sober now, so he was aware of his actions, but this was the kind of person Hongjoong was—a touchy-feely one.

So there was no reason for Seonghwa’s heart to be acting up this way just because he was getting his damn hand held, especially when Hongjoong was most likely seeking comfort after the incident.

Hongjoong finally let go when they reached the car, moving to the passenger side.

“Thank you,” he quietly said once the engine roared to life. “And I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Seonghwa shot a glance at Hongjoong, who was staring down at his hands.

He eased the car down the road, racking his memory for the location of Hongjoong’s apartment.

“You almost got hurt,” Hongjoong’s tone held something sharp in it, like he was more mad at himself than the guy who provoked him. “I didn’t know he would get violent like that.”

“But I didn’t get hurt. It’s really okay, Hongjoong, you don’t need to apologize,” Seonghwa assured. “I’m glad your friends stepped in too.”

“Yeah, San does have a mean punch,” Hongjoong let out a dry chuckle. “That guy should consider himself lucky it wasn’t Jongho who hit him.”

“Who was that guy anyway? An old ex or something?”

Seonghwa internally cursed at himself for bringing it up. He didn’t mean to pry into information Hongjoong may have not wanted to disclose.

“No, he’s just some guy who tried to flirt with me before. He kept trying to ask me out and get me to change my mind since I always rejected him.”

Disgusting.

For someone like him to refuse taking no as an answer and even going as far to harass Hongjoong….

The gratefulness Seonghwa felt for San knocking the guy out increased tenfold.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that douchebag. But I’m sure he won’t bother you anymore unless he’s asking for a broken arm.”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong agreed halfheartedly.

A familiar street came into view and Seonghwa recognized that Hongjoong’s apartment complex will be on the next turn.

“I’m sorry for cutting your night short too.”

Seonghwa snorted. “It’s okay, I wanted to leave anyway. I really didn’t want to be there in the first place.”

He pulled into the driveway and cruised through the dark road, looking out for Hongjoong’s building.

Spinning the wheel, he turned into the parking space he parked in last time and shut off the engine.

They exited the vehicle and Seonghwa let Hongjoong go ahead of him to the door, the crappy light above flickering on from their movements.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Seonghwa asked, voice full of concern.

He didn’t know how the incident truly affected Hongjoong internally.

Did he not want to be left alone? Would having Mingi come home sooner be better?

Hongjoong nodded. “I’ll be fine. Mingi will throw a fit when he finds out what happened though,” he cracked a smile, the crappy light highlighting his worn-out eyes.

He turned his back to insert his key into the knob, twisting it until it clicked.

“Make sure to drink lots of water,” Seonghwa emphasized, remembering that he wasn’t able to deliver the water bottle to Hongjoong earlier. “And get a lot of rest.”

“I will, don’t worry about me,” Hongjoong chuckled before facing him.

This was one of those times Seonghwa couldn’t tell what Hongjoong was thinking.

An emotion he couldn’t decipher was swirling around in Hongjoong’s eyes and Seonghwa could only recognize that Hongjoong was looking at him differently.

He didn’t know what kind of different, but it was different.

He had seen a million emotions flash through Hongjoong’s eyes ever since they met and none of them were like the way he was looking at him now.

“You should do your hair like that more often,” Hongjoong suddenly said, tracing his gaze over the dark strands.

“O-oh,” Seonghwa stammered, caught off guard by the abrupt topic. His hand subconsciously reached up to run his fingers through his hair.

Hongjoong glanced from the ajar door to Seonghwa, seeming to contemplate something as the gears turned in his head.

Then he flung his arms around Seonghwa, engulfing him in a hug.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong mumbled against his shoulder.

Surprised, Seonghwa promptly recovered his bearings and would’ve hugged him back, but his arms were trapped to his sides.

Hongjoong released him just as quickly as he had hugged him.

“Good night,” he whispered before swiftly entering his apartment and closing the door.

Not even the crisp air could cool down Seonghwa’s flaming cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to clarify: the first unnamed dude at the party (the same-class guy) and the Angry One are just random characters i made up!! they are not related to any real life people
> 
> things are finally picking up!! i wanted to make the Angry One be more mean but i honestly couldn't figure out what other aggressively mean things to make him say :(
> 
> hongjoong's party outfit is based on what he wore on a recent vlive with yunho! wooyoung's is based off of this [tweet](https://twitter.com/ATEEZofficial/status/1228880476695171075?s=20) and seonghwa's hair is based off of this [tweet](https://twitter.com/sss19980403/status/1186172654396428288?s=20)
> 
> and san and jongho finally got introduced entering the scene guns blazing as the hongjoong protection squad! hehe
> 
> i hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, i had a lot of fun writing it :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Seonghwa:** i’m just there trying to exist as a human being and he tries to punch me TWICE

 **Yeosang:** but did you punch him back

 **Seonghwa:** ok listen i have never thrown a punch before in my life 

**Seonghwa:** but i was ready to find out how to

 **Yeosang:** so you didn’t knock him out

 **Seonghwa:** no i did not bc someone else came in and broke his nose first

 **Yeosang:** i can’t believe there was a fight and i wasn’t there to see it

 **Seonghwa:** yeah well i can’t believe i went to party and almost got beat up

 **Seonghwa:** AND THERE WEREN’T EVEN ANY JUICE BOXES

 **Yeosang:** gasp

 **Yeosang:** that’s not a real party

 **Seonghwa:** I KNOW

 **Yeosang:** what a shame

 **Seonghwa:** …..you’re being sarcastic aren’t you

 **Yeosang:** what kinda party has fucking juice boxes laying around

 **Seonghwa:** A GOOD ONE

A car entered Seonghwa’s peripherals, catching his attention to look up and see the passenger window rolling down, revealing a smiling Hongjoong urging him with his hand from the driver’s seat.

“Hey,” Seonghwa greeted as he slid into the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt. “You came pretty early.”

“Me? You were here before I came so you’re the early one,” Hongjoong said, driving to the parking lot exit.

**Seonghwa:** ok gotta go

 **Seonghwa:** i’m gonna get frozen yogurt

 **Yeosang:** wtf without me???

 **Yeosang:** get me some

 **Seonghwa:** no bitch

Seonghwa glanced up from his phone momentarily, finding Hongjoong looking at him expectantly.

Oh shit.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Seonghwa asked sheepishly. “I was telling my friend to fuck off.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “I asked how your day was.”

“Same as usual,” Seonghwa sighed. “I ate cereal, but I didn’t have enough milk, so I just sat there with my half dry corn flakes.”

He continued his rant about the proper proportion between cereal and milk.

When Hongjoong had texted Seonghwa asking to go out for frozen yogurt, the latter was surprised.

He didn’t expect Hongjoong to be willing to be out and about so soon after the party last night, so Seonghwa was concerned about Hongjoong’s hangover.

But the younger had assured him that he was fine and practically demanded for Seonghwa to accept the invitation.

 _“My treat,”_ Hongjoong had said.

And obviously, Seonghwa wouldn’t say no to free frozen yogurt.

“Could you show me some more of your music?” Seonghwa asked after a couple minutes of silence. “I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. I know some people are insecure about showing their work to other people so you don’t have to—”

Hongjoong cut him off with a chuckle. “I’d love to. I didn’t know you were interested,” he gave him a glance.

“I really liked what you showed me last time,” Seonghwa shrugged. “And if you became famous one day, I could flex that I heard your music way before you got popular. Mind giving me your autograph too?”

Hongjoong whacked Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Shut up, I’m not that good,” he laughed.

“Oh, come on, Hongjoong. You can toot your own horn a little,” Seonghwa said teasingly.

“How about this? I’ll show you a track and you can bake something for me. Deal?”

“You got any allergies?”

Hongjoong shook his head.

“Then it’s a deal.”

Once they reached the plaza, they exited the vehicle and headed into the frozen yogurt shop.

“Hi, welcome!” the worker greeted automatically.

“Hello,” Hongjoong and Seonghwa echoed.

Two stacks of containers were placed next to the wall of yogurt machines—a small size and a larger one.

Hongjoong went for the larger container and Seonghwa reached for the small one without a second thought.

If Hongjoong was paying, Seonghwa didn’t want to be obnoxious about the amount of yogurt he was getting since payment was according to the weight of it.

“What are you doing?” Hongjoong asked, frowning at the cup in Seonghwa’s hand. “Get the bigger one.”

“No—you’re paying,” Seonghwa refused.

“Yeah, and….?” Hongjoong dragged out, as if he didn’t see the same issue Seonghwa did.

“I don’t want you to pay too much for mine.”

“Oh, stop being such an angel,” Hongjoong plucked the cup from Seonghwa before placing it back on the stack and shoving a new large container at him. “Here. I said I’ll treat you so don’t worry your pretty little head of yours about the cost.”

“Fine,” Seonghwa yielded.

Hongjoong smiled, pleased with himself, and sauntered along the wall of machines, examining each flavor while humming.

Seonghwa immediately strode to the strawberry flavor and carefully pulled down the lever as the machine whirred to life.

Steadily, he tilted the cup for the yogurt to fall in a perfect swirl.

He was a strong advocate for neat and organized yogurt piles.

Once the yogurt reached the amount he was pleased with, he released the lever and scanned the other flavor tags for his next choice.

“Oh no—stop stop stop stop,” Hongjoong sputtered in panic, pushing the lever up with a strained expression.

Seonghwa snickered at the scene, causing Hongjoong to pout sadly at the salted caramel overflowing on one edge.

“Don’t laugh at me,” the younger pretended to cry. “I thought I broke the machine.”

It was funny seeing the difference between how Seonghwa and Hongjoong piled the yogurt in their cups.

Seonghwa used careful precision with calculated timing, while Hongjoong eyeballed the measurements and always released the lever a second too slow, making the machine give him an extra dollop every time.

Seonghwa paused to point at the flavor tag next to the one he wanted to go for next. “Hey, look,” he said to catch Hongjoong’s attention. “It’s you.”

Hongjoong craned his neck to see the blueberry tag Seonghwa was pointing at. “Haha, very funny and original,” he said sarcastically. Then he pointed at the chocolate tag. “And this is you.”

“Chocolate?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “How is that me?”

“Because you’re _so sweet_ ,” Hongjoong cooed teasingly.

“And you said _I_ was unoriginal,” Seonghwa said, rolling his eyes but unable to stop his mouth from turning up into a smile.

After he got his last flavor, he stepped over to Hongjoong to peer into his bowl. “Are you done?” he asked, looking at the mix of colors messily overlapping each other.

“Mhm,” Hongjoong confirmed before shuffling to the toppings section.

Seonghwa scooped his desired toppings evenly over his yogurt and once he placed the spoon back into the tub of Fruity Pebbles, he found Hongjoong staring intently at the gummy bears, concentrated.

“Should I?” Hongjoong asked, probably to himself. “Or should I not?”

“You should, if you want it,” Seonghwa answered for him.

Hongjoong set his cup on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “But do I actually want it? Or did I trick myself into thinking I did?”

“If you’re considering it, doesn’t that mean you want it?”

“Hm, actually I don’t think I do.”

“Just get it in case you later regret not getting it.”

“Okay, you’re right. I should get it.”

After Hongjoong threw a huge chunk of gummy bears into his cup and paid for both of them, they decided to settle at the table right outside the shop.

Seonghwa scooped a spoonful of yogurt into his mouth, the cold sweetness melting over his tongue. “Mm!” he voiced gleefully and applauded his yogurt. “I haven’t had frozen yogurt in forever.”

“Me too, I’ve been wanting to go for a while now,” Hongjoong said around his spoon.

Birds chirped distantly in the background as a gentle breeze brushed past them. Tree leaves rustled above them, a few stray ones falling to the ground occasionally.

“Did you start practicing for the presentation yet?” Hongjoong asked, looking a bit too expectant for Seonghwa’s liking because no he did not start practicing yet.

“I’m...I’m getting around to it,” Seonghwa replied vaguely to hide the fact that he’s been procrastinating. “I’ve just been...busy with other work.”

That was true. He _did_ have other work to prioritize since being a bio major was kind of demanding and he had a job on the side.

“It’s okay, I haven’t started either,” Hongjoong waved his spoon just as a small leaf floated gracefully onto the top of his head.

“Oh, there’s a—you have—” Seonghwa’s arm reached across the table, missing the way Hongjoong’s wide eyes were looking at his hand, to pluck the leaf off. “You had a leaf on your head,” he held up the plant before letting it drift to the floor.

“Oh,” Hongjoong patted his head, as if checking for more leaves. “Thanks.”

Seonghwa ate another bite. “I think that was nature claiming you as one of its own.”

Hongjoong tilted his head in confusion.

“You had a leaf on your head and blueberries grow from plants...with leaves…”

A beat.

“Please don’t kick me.”

“You’re so lame,” Hongjoong shook his head good-naturedly, digging his spoon into his yogurt.

They sat in silence until Hongjoong spoke up again.

“Can I...can I ask you something?” he said, his tone shifting to a more timid one.

Seonghwa adjusted himself in his seat upon noticing the change in mood. “Sure, what is it?”

Hongjoong kept his eyes trained on his yogurt. “So I have this friend,” he began.

 _Okay, he’s talking about himself_ , Seonghwa concluded.

Because when people start out with “Hypothetically…” or “So I have this friend that….” they’re usually talking about themselves in a roundabout way.

Unless Seonghwa’s assumption was wrong and Hongjoong actually was talking about a friend he had.

But for now, he’ll go into the situation under the assumption that Hongjoong was talking about a real friend, just to not make Hongjoong uncomfortable in case he didn’t want Seonghwa to think it was actually about him.

“And what about this friend?” Seonghwa gently urged him to continue.

“He’s...he’s not sure if he’s reading the signs right from someone else,” Hongjoong went on while taking a bite. “And he’s not sure if _something_ is even there at all.”

Well, that was incredibly vague.

“What do you mean by signs?” Seonghwa asked.

Hongjoong puffed his cheeks before answering. “Signs that imply that there’s something deeper in the other person’s words and actions. Do you get what I mean?”

“Deeper as in a romantic sense? Or like a ‘I’m secretly plotting your death’ kind of thing?” Seonghwa questioned again.

Hongjoong probably meant the first one, but, hey, Seonghwa needed all the clarification he could get before giving advice.

The younger looked concerned at the second half of the question. “The first one. Definitely the first one.”

“Okay,” Seonghwa slowly nodded. “So what’s the question?”

Hongjoong’s lower lip got caught between his teeth and the emotion in his eyes became filled with even more uncertainty and...a little bit of fear?

“How can I—I mean he—get confirmation that he’s reading the signs right? And how can he let the other person know he feels the same way—if he actually is reading the signs right?”

Ah.

So Hongjoong really was talking about himself.

Not that it mattered though since Seonghwa would try to help either way.

But there was one problem….

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask about this,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hongjoong’s face dropped. “Why not?”

“I’m awful with anything related to romance,” Seonghwa explained as embarrassment started to course through his veins. “I had a rock thrown at me for making someone think I was flirting with them when I really wasn’t, so I think I’m pretty useless in this field.”

“That explains a lot,” Hongjoong muttered under his breath. “So you really have no idea what my friend should do?”

“Hmm,” Seonghwa pondered. “I think actions speak louder than words, so maybe your friend could try doing some bold stuff and see how the other person reacts?”

Hongjoong blinked. “I’m not so sure that would work with the other person.”

“The easiest way to find out if your friend is reading the signs right is by just asking the other person directly, but,” Seonghwa shrugged. “I assume direct communication is off the table for this.”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong sighed heavily. “Actions speak louder than words, huh?”

Seonghwa nodded while munching on some Fruity Pebbles. “Some people aren’t good with words so actions can tell you a lot more about them and how they’re feeling.”

He was drumming his fingertips along the table idly just as Hongjoong suddenly shot out his hand to cover Seonghwa’s.

The memory of Hongjoong grasping his hand at the night of the party flashed through Seonghwa’s mind.

“Actions like this?” Hongjoong asked, a challenging tone tinting his voice.

“Oh uh,” Seonghwa stammered through his surprise. “Yeah, that could work among other things.”

“Other things like…?”

Seonghwa shifted his gaze away from Hongjoong’s intense one. “Things like giving your full attention when they talk, I guess? Or maybe stuff like giving them small gifts and showing that you remember the little details about them?”

He had no idea what he was saying.

Seonghwa was just spouting out things he heard from other people and what he had seen on social media.

Hongjoong cocked his head to the side. “Are those the kinds of things you like, Seonghwa?”

“Doesn’t everyone like stuff like that?” Seonghwa shrugged. “Things that make you feel...special? To someone?”

Hongjoong bit his lower lip, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he seemed to consider something. “Can I ask you another question?” he said, finally pulling his hand away. “What’s your ideal type?”

“My...my ideal type?” Seonghwa asked, taken aback by the random question.

“What are your preferences on looks, personality….just things you look for in a partner?” Hongjoong elaborated, continuing to chew on his lip.

“I’ve never really thought about it,” Seonghwa admitted. “Why?”

The thought of an ideal type never crossed his mind before. 

He knew people who knew exactly what they liked in a partner, but Seonghwa had never sat down and actually thought about it.

“Just curious,” Hongjoong leaned back against his chair.

“Try not to be disappointed by the lack of juicy information, but I don’t think I have one,” Seonghwa shook his head as he swirled his spoon around his yogurt.

“Really? Come on, there has to be _something_ you like in another person. What about being able to cut onions without crying?” Hongjoong suggested.

Seonghwa paused. “Is that what _you’re_ into?”

“It’s just an example,” Hongjoong replied, waving his hand. “Everyone has preferences whether they realize it or not.”

“You sound pretty interested in mine. Trying to see if you fit my ideal type?” Seonghwa teased playfully.

He honestly meant it as a joke, but his playfulness subsided when Hongjoong’s usual amused expression dropped as his mouth parted open, like he was struggling to find the words.

“I’m kidding,” Seonghwa said before Hongjoong started malfunctioning.

“I knew that,” Hongjoong defended, aggressively shoving his spoon into his mouth.

Seonghwa’s eyes glanced upwards as he thought about it.

Did “someone who’s a decent person” count as an ideal type?

It did, right?

“I guess my ideal type would be someone who’s a decent person?” Seonghwa said, more like a question.

“That’s it?” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “That’s so _boring_. A decent person could be anyone.”

Seonghwa shrugged. “I told you I never thought about it before. If it’s so boring, then what’s your ideal type?”

“Hmm,” Hongjoong hummed thoughtfully before resting his forearms on the table. “I like a guy who’s tall, considerate about others, doesn’t invalidate my feelings when I get emotional over dumb things, and is genuine.”

Didn’t Hongjoong just describe….

“Sooo,” Seonghwa dragged out. “A decent person is what you’re into.”

“Did you just not hear what I said?” Hongjoong said in disbelief.

“I did and you just described what a decent person would be like,” Seonghwa stated like it was obvious.

Because it _was_ obvious.

A decent person would be everything Hongjoong just described.

(The tall thing could be removed though.)

Hongjoong sighed heavily, shutting his eyes. “Let me be more specific. I like guys who can balance me out when I get too excited, don’t mind when I get clingy, are interested in what I like—like my music—, and preferably they’re able to pick up on my signs, but I think a little cluelessness is cute too.”

“Wow,” Seonghwa mused. “I don’t know anyone like that, but I’m sure you’ll find someone to your liking.”

“I’m gonna kick myself in the face,” Hongjoong said as he dropped his head, his tone full of resignation.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

◆◆◆◆

After Hongjoong dropped Seonghwa off at home (while also refusing to leave until he saw Seonghwa enter his apartment), Seonghwa had changed into his pajamas and laid on his bed for a good five minutes.

Then he forced himself to sit at his desk and start his assignments.

 _“If I finish it now, I won’t have to do it later”_ was the mantra he kept telling himself to stay motivated at the bare minimum.

Right now, his eyes were staring blankly at an infographic about gene regulation, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on in the image.

 _Looks like it’s time to find food_ , he thought.

It was around the time he should be eating dinner anyway and it didn’t seem like his brain would be processing gene regulation any time soon, so finding food was a pretty good choice.

As his leftover fried rice was heating in the microwave, he stretched his back, the sound of his bones cracking echoing around the quiet apartment, save for the low hum of the microwave.

He set the bowl on the counter when the microwave beeped and mindlessly took a bite.

He was checking his phone for notifications when it hit him that Jaehyuk had never responded to his invitation to go out to eat.

And over a week passed since Seonghwa had sent the text.

What the hell?

It _never_ took Jaehyuk that long to respond to a text.

Was he really that busy that he couldn’t have just told Seonghwa “hey sorry i’m busy right now”?

Seonghwa always made sure to text back within a reasonable time because he didn’t like to ghost people.

Frowning, he shot another text to his friend.

**Seonghwa:** is that a no??? are you really busy or something?

He put his phone down and waited for a response.

It took another seven minutes for his phone to vibrate with a notification.

**Jaehyuk:** sorry i’m still swamped with things

Seonghwa waited.

Jaehyuk didn’t say anything else.

That’s it?

No actual explanation about why it took him so long to reply? And the fact that he only replied when Seonghwa had to send another text?

He was never like this before.

**Seonghwa:** oh

 **Seonghwa:** why did it take you so long to respond tho? you never take that long

Seonghwa wasn’t a confrontational person. At all.

He hated confrontation.

He hated the uncomfortable feeling and the awkwardness that would arise.

But after hours of doing assignments, lethargy was getting to him, so he couldn’t reign in his emotions as well as usual.

**Jaehyuk:** i told you, i’m really busy these days

 **Seonghwa:** you could’ve explained that you were busy earlier

 **Seonghwa:** why did you decide to tell me you were busy only when i texted you again

 **Jaehyuk:** i don’t have to explain every detail of my life to you???

 **Jaehyuk:** why are you being like this

Oh.

So it was going to be one of _those_ conversations.

The type of conversation that Seonghwa absolutely dreaded with every fiber of his being.

He carried his bowl over to the living room table, plopping onto the couch.

He needed to be sitting for this.

**Seonghwa:** you never take over a week to get back to me so of course i would wanna know what’s going on especially since we don’t see each other that much anymore

 **Jaehyuk:** we aren’t glued to the hip like we were in high school 

**Jaehyuk:** let me breathe a little

Seonghwa frowned as needles pricked his heart.

He always made it clear that he understood their circumstances were different now with the way they attended different schools and there was a bigger physical distance between them.

He never expected immediate texts back and compromised with Jaehyuk’s schedule when setting a day to hang out.

And he didn’t push his friend when he rejected the previous invitation either, so Seonghwa didn’t see how he wasn’t giving Jaehyuk his space.

It wasn’t like Seonghwa was constantly texting and bothering him either.

**Seonghwa:** i am???

 **Seonghwa:** i know you’re busy with life but it would be nice if you told me why you were busy

 **Seonghwa:** i miss us hanging out

 **Jaehyuk:** look

 **Jaehyuk:** i don’t get why you’re being so pushy about this

Seonghwa’s heart plummeted.

Pushy…?

He knew he was a lot of things, but he never considered himself pushy.

Unless...he _was_ pushy this whole time and he never realized it, which would be the most terrible realization Seonghwa could ever make.

**Jaehyuk:** you’re not my mom. you’re not entitled to know everything about what’s going on in my life

 **Jaehyuk:** if i say i’m busy then that means i’m busy, that’s it. i don’t need to explain it to you if i don’t want to

Ice ran through Seonghwa’s veins as his lower lip began to tremble. With unsteady fingers, he started typing.

**Seonghwa:** i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to be pushy

 **Seonghwa:** i was just worried

 **Jaehyuk:** k i appreciate your concern but i don’t need it

What….

Why was Jaehyuk being like this?

Being so...uncaring and cold?

**Seonghwa:** you’re my closest friend why wouldn’t i be concerned???

 **Seonghwa:** if you’re going through something, i want to help

 **Jaehyuk:** look seonghwa

 **Jaehyuk:** i’ve been keeping this to myself for a while now but i’m tired of it

 **Jaehyuk:** stop trying to pry into my business. you’re always so pushy about it and i hate it

 **Jaehyuk:** if i don’t want to tell you something then you should just respect it

It felt like a brick was lodged in his throat as his vision became blurry, a tear escaping his eye and running down his cheek against his will.

He hastily wiped it away with his sleeve before responding.

**Seonghwa:** i’m really really sorry, i honestly didn’t realize i was being pushy

 **Seonghwa:** i won’t force you to tell me things you don’t want to explain anymore

 **Jaehyuk:** no there won’t a next time

 **Jaehyuk:** you know what, i think we should just stop being friends

A sob broke out of Seonghwa’s throat as tears raced down his cheeks, a tremor running through his body.

Why?

Why was Jaehyuk saying all of this?

Had he always felt this way? Even when they were friends in high school?

Was Seonghwa always this pushy and he never realized it?

Why did he want to stop being friends all of a sudden?

He had too many questions, but his shaking hands couldn’t express them all.

**Seonghwa:** what? why are you saying this

 **Jaehyuk:** i just don’t think it’s working out and i don’t think it’s worth it to keep putting effort when we both know it’s dying

 **Jaehyuk:** we’re busy with our own lives and it’s getting tedious to stay friends

Tedious...

Like it’s a _chore_ to be friends with Seonghwa?

Another sob racked through his body and he couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears painting his face with wet trails.

He had been friends with Jaehyuk for the longest time out of all his other friends.

They struggled together, celebrated together, spent hours just hanging out together, fucking graduated together….

All those years of being close friends and now….

Seonghwa knew they were beginning to drift, so he wanted to try his best to stay in touch.

But it seemed like he was wrong to assume his friend wanted the same thing.

**Seonghwa:** i’ve been trying my best because i still see you as a good friend

 **Seonghwa:** we can still make it work

 **Jaehyuk:** it doesn’t matter anymore

His chest began to rise and fall rapidly, his breaths shortening as they escaped his mouth.

He needed this conversation to end.

**Seonghwa:** okay

 **Seonghwa:** if that’s what you want

 **Jaehyuk:** you were a good friend while it lasted

 **Jaehyuk:** thanks for everything

 **Seonghwa:** yeah...you were a good friend too

Seonghwa clicked the screen off and chucked his phone to the side.

He covered his face with his palms, messily wiping at the tears that didn’t seem to stop.

Was he really that much of a bad friend that it seemed like it was a chore to be friends with him?

Seonghwa tried to take in a deep breath to stop his chest from heaving so quickly, but failed as he let out a stuttered breath.

He vaguely heard the vibration of his phone go off three times, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

He glanced up at the ceiling, his eyes still burning with pressure.

He was wiping his eyes and nose again when his ringtone blared, causing him to jump.

Who the fuck was interrupting his crying session?

He leaned over and grabbed his phone, an uneasy feeling spreading through him at the sight of Hongjoong’s name on the screen.

His thumb froze over the end call button.

He was in no shape for a pleasant conversation, but what if Hongjoong needed something? Or if he was in an emergency?

Clearing his throat as best as he could, he accepted the call and pressed his phone to his ear.

“Hello?” his voice croaked, much to his dismay.

He didn’t want it to be obvious that he was quite literally in the middle of crying.

“ _Hey! Sorry for the sudden call, but you weren’t responding to my texts and I really wanted to show you how I wanted to read one of the slides!_ ” Hongjoong said enthusiastically.

“Okay,” Seonghwa responded in one breath to avoid the risk of having his voice crack.

“ _So for the slide about the Russian guy, I wanted…_ ” Hongjoong went on to explain, but Seonghwa couldn’t focus as the memory of him telling Hongjoong to get the gummy bears flashed through his mind.

 _Fuck, I really am pushy, aren’t I? I basically forced him to get the goddamn gummy bears without considering that he might not have wanted them_ , he thought while another wave of sobs hit him.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and covered his mouth so Hongjoong wouldn’t hear his cries.

“— _does that sound?”_ Hongjoong asked.

Seonghwa willed his voice to not crack. “Sounds good,” he said shakily, his voice breaking towards the end.

Fuck.

He hoped Hongjoong didn’t pick up on it.

Hongjoong was silent for a few seconds before speaking up. “ _Are you okay? You don’t sound too good._ ”

Just when Seongha finally got his tears under fucking control, a dam broke out again at Hongjoong’s question.

_It’s my fault I lost a good friend._

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice muffled due to his hand covering his mouth again as his throat betrayed him in choking on a sob.

Puffs of air rapidly hit his palm while his chest pumped much faster than it should be.

He knew he had to slow down his breathing, but it was just so _fucking difficult_.

“ _Oh my god, are you crying?_ ” Hongjoong asked, panic heavy in his tone. Seonghwa heard him shuffle a bit. “ _What happened? What’s going on?_ ”

Seonghwa forced himself to inhale and slowly exhale so he could at least respond. “Nothing, I’ll be f—” a hitched gasp escaped him. “—fine. I’ll be fine.”

“ _I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that? Just follow what I say._ ”

Seonghwa nodded even though he knew Hongjoong couldn’t see him.

“ _Okay, breathe in. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5_ ,” Hongjoong gently guided. “ _And breathe out.”_

Seonghwa focused on his voice and did his best to follow along with him.

“ _Again, breathe in. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And out.”_

Hongjoong repeated it about five more times until Seonghwa’s shuddering breaths stopped.

“ _How are you feeling now?”_ Hongjoong asked quietly.

Seonghwa involuntarily let out a hitched breath. “Better,” he responded, his voice thick. He swallowed to clear his throat.

“ _Is there anything I could do to help you?_ ”

“No, no,” Seonghwa refused. “It’s okay. You helped me enough.”

“ _Alright...you don’t have to tell me anything, but just know I’m always here for you if you ever need to vent. Or if you need a distraction then we can talk about something random._ ”

He felt a burning pressure in his eyes again so he swiped at them before he started crying for a second time.

“Thank you, really,” Seonghwa tried to convey his gratefulness the best he could. “I think I’ll go to bed now and just sleep it off.”

“ _Yeah, no problem. Call me if you need anything. Goodnight, Seonghwa._ ”

“Goodnight.”

“ _And make sure to drink a lot of water before bed or I’ll kick your ass._ ”

Seonghwa mustered a small laugh. “I will.”

He hung up the call, the abandoned bowl of now-cold fried rice greeting him.

Sleeping for 24 hours sounded very nice right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uhhhh first off, i am so sorry that it took over 2 weeks for me to update :( i've just been so busy and things are going on in my personal life so it was tough finding the time to sit down and properly write a chapter
> 
> ik this chapter is much shorter than the previous, but thank you so much for waiting patiently anyway, i really appreciate it !!
> 
> anyway wow jaehyuk what a douchebag am i right


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's cherry! hope you enjoy this chapter ^.^

“Dude, you look _awful_.”

Seonghwa’s tired eyes deadpanned back at Yeosang. “Gee, thanks. I went to bed crying last night.”

“Don’t we all,” Yeosang sighed before chomping on his chocolate bar. When Seonghwa remained silent, he paused mid-bite. “Wait, are you serious?”

Seonghwa gave him a tight-lipped smile.

Yeosang chewed slowly. “You good, bro? What happened?”

 _“you’re always so pushy”_ rang in Seonghwa’s head.

“Do you think I’m pushy? Be honest,” Seonghwa asked, his tone flat and sad.

“I don’t think so? I think you nag more than be pushy. Did someone say you were?”

“You see…”

Seonghwa summarized what Jaehyuk had said to him and when he finally looked up, Yeosang was fuming.

“What the hell? That’s fucked up—you weren’t even being pushy!” Yeosang exclaimed, his gaze hardened.

“I mean I can see why he thought I was,” Seonghwa mumbled, letting his shoulders drop.

“No, listen to me, Jaehyuk is just an asshole,” Yeosang stated firmly. “He can honestly go eat a bag of dicks.”

Seonghwa chuckled at his choice of words.

Yeosang continued. “You were only just asking what was going on since he is— _was_ —your closest friend and that makes complete sense! It’s not like you were constantly texting him every breathing moment.”

“Right?!” Seonghwa straightened up. “I gave him a whole damn week to get back to me and I don’t even think he opened my first message.”

“Don’t listen to him, Seonghwa. He doesn’t deserve you,” Yeosang pointed his finger at Seonghwa. “Where does he live anyway? The only things he deserves are my fists.”

“If we ever see him in public, please don’t punch him.”

“Not even one swing?”

“....Okay just one is fine.”

A blanket of drained energy fell over them as the chatter of students milling around them played as background noise.

They decided to just chill at a table after their bio lecture and the reminders the professor gave about the upcoming assignments were hurting Seonghwa’s brain.

Too many things to do, not enough time.

“You wanna skip class?” Yeosang suddenly spoke up.

“What?” Seonghwa blurted out of confusion.

“I’m done with classes for today and you have art history later, right?” Yeosang asked for clarification.

“Yeah…” Seonghwa said slowly.

“Do you honestly want to go to class?” Yeosang raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that meant he already knew the answer.

“You make a strong argument,” Seonghwa rubbed his index finger and thumb on his chin in a thinking pose. “Skipping one lecture won’t hurt.”

“We can go to the store since you said you wanted to look for new baking supplies,” Yeosang suggested. “I’ll even buy a whisk for you.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why are you being so nice?”

“When a friend is sad, it’s my job to do something about it. And since I can’t punch that asshole, buying you a whisk is the next best thing,” Yeosang explained, raising his arms up to show that he had no ulterior motives.

“I’m driving, aren’t I?”

Yeosang grinned.

◆◆◆◆

“I don’t see why you can’t drive if you’re the one who wanted me to ditch class,” Seonghwa slammed the car door shut.

“Because I don’t have a car,” Yeosang retorted, circling around the back of the car to reach Seonghwa’s side.

“Oh right.”

Since Yeosang still lived with his parents (they lived quite close to the university), his parents had refused to buy him his own car until he graduated.

He already had his license, but could only borrow one of his parents’ cars when they weren’t using it, so Yeosang used a skateboard as his main mode of transportation.

Once they entered the store, they headed for the kitchen section.

“Can we look at the bowls first?” Yeosang asked as they passed the tupperware aisle.

“You need a bowl?”

“No.”

Befuddled by Yeosang’s desire to look at bowls despite not needing one, Seonghwa followed behind him anyway.

Their eyes scanned over the shelves to locate the bowls, passing by fancy plates and cups until they reached the bowls.

Yeosang placed his hands on his hips and scrutinized each bowl carefully while occasionally picking some of them up for a closer look, humming to himself in what sounded like contemplation.

Seonghwa briefly glanced at some funky painted bowls before losing interest so he pulled out his phone instinctively.

With a mind of its own, his thumb pressed on the messaging app and his conversation with Jaehyuk appeared on the screen.

A pang hit his chest as he read through the last things he and his ex-friend said to each other.

God, Seonghwa was a terrible friend, wasn’t he?

Suddenly, his phone disappeared and he found himself looking at his palm instead.

“What are you doing?” Yeosang flicked through the screen, Seonghwa’s phone now in his hand. “Why are you reading your texts with that asshat?”

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa snatched his phone back. “Maybe _I’m_ the asshat.”

“Shut the fuck up and shut off your phone completely or I’ll drop kick you across the store,” Yeosang demanded.

Seonghwa was used to Yeosang cursing with that angelic face of his and he was rarely intimidated by him.

But sometimes, like now, the younger could be quite scary when he wanted to be.

“Okay, okay,” Seonghwa yielded, making a show of shutting his phone off.

“Good,” Yeosang nodded once before holding up a bowl. “Now what do you think about this? I’m kind of feeling the vibe.”

Seonghwa studied what looked like two goats, both wearing sun hats, frolicking through a field of grass painted in the dip of the bowl. “I think you need it.”

“And I think you’re right. Let’s go find your whisk now,” Yeosang tucked the bowl in the crook of his arm and led the way out of the aisle.

They wandered around, getting distracted by kitchen tools they thought were ridiculous, before stumbling upon a rack of whisks.

“You better not pick the most expensive one,” Yeosang remarked, poking at a whisk and watching it sway.

Seonghwa laced his fingers behind his back while crouching over to get a closer look at the variety of tools.

He gasped loudly as his hand shot out to grab a whisk with a pink handle that had cat ears sticking out from the end.

“This one,” he declared, holding it up. “This is the one.”

“Oh right, I forgot you were a furry.”

“Don’t slander my reputation.”

Yeosang childishly made a face at him to which Seonghwa made the same face back.

“Did you need to look at anything else?” Seonghwa asked as he moved out of the aisle onto the main walkway.

“Hmm, nope,” Yeosang held his bowl out in front of him to look at it again.

They continued on the path to the cash register and when they turned the corner, Seonghwa paused.

“Oh?”

“Oh!”

Yeosang looked in confusion between Seonghwa and the people they just stumbled upon.

Seonghwa and Mingi were pointing at each other, basically recreating that one Spiderman meme.

“Seonghwa!” Mingi exclaimed. “And Seonghwa’s friend!”

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Seonghwa said to Mingi before turning to look at Mingi’s companion. “San, right?”

“Hey,” San waved. “Good to see you again.”

Mingi whipped his head between Seonghwa and San. “You guys know each other?”

“Long story, but we met when San punched an asshole,” Seonghwa briefly explained.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Yeosang’s eyes widen in realization at who exactly San was.

“Oh yeah, Hongjoong told me about that!” Mingi recalled, snapping his fingers.

“So you’re the legend I heard about,” Yeosang spoke up as he nodded appreciatively at San.

“Nah, I just did my duty as a good citizen,” San brushed away the title.

“Oh! How’s it going with Yunho?” Seonghwa asked Mingi, remembering what Yunho said at the party. “I heard you’re tutoring him in math now.”

Mingi broke out into a large grin as his whole face lit up. “It’s going _great_ ,” he emphasized with a light blush. “He’s so—”

“So I’d love to stay and talk, but we’re actually trying to find the bathroom right now,” the words escaped San’s mouth rapidly and Seonghwa finally noticed the awkward way San was standing.

“Oh god, go ahead,” Seonghwa stepped to the side and gestured at the path to the duo. “It was nice seeing you guys.”

“You too,” San smiled, patting Seonghwa’s shoulder lightly as he and Mingi walked past.

Seonghwa and Yeosang barely took a step forward when Mingi shouted.

“Wait, Seonghwa!” he said, prompting Seonghwa to turn around. “What’s your favorite animal?”

Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed at the random question. “Uh, I like cats….why?”

“Cool thanks!” Mingi flashed a thumbs up before speed walking away with San tailing him.

Seonghwa and Yeosang shared a glance.

“That’s one big bitch,” was all Yeosang said.

◆◆◆◆

Seonghwa pretended to not notice Hongjoong finally get up from his table after sitting there for about an hour.

Hongjoong usually ordered something before sitting down to do whatever he did on his laptop, so Seonghwa was surprised when he saw him go straight to a table.

He whistled innocently while restocking the muffins in the glass display, taking his sweet time.

Hongjoong drummed his fingers as he waited patiently in front of the register for Seonghwa to finish up and throw away the muffin packaging.

“I was wondering when you were gonna order something,” Seonghwa rested his weight against the counter.

“Aww, were you waiting for me this whole time?” Hongjoong pouted teasingly.

Seonghwa chuckled. “So what will it be today? The s’mores drink is back, if you’re interested.”

“S’mores, huh?”

Seonghwa splayed his arms out and cocked his head to the side. “It’s a fall favorite.”

“I don’t know...It sounds too sweet for me,” Hongjoong said, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“It’s not that sweet,” Seonghwa clarified his assumption. “I personally really like it.”

“Hmm,” Hongjoong exaggerated his expression to look like he was still unconvinced.

“Come on, just try it once,” Seonghwa gave him his best persuasive smile.

“I’m not sure if it’s my thing...you’re not doing a good job of convincing me,” Hongjoong continued to tease with his own shit-eating grin.

_“you’re always so pushy”_

Seonghwa’s smile dropped. “Sorry, I...I don’t mean to force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he averted his gaze to the register.

Hongjoong didn’t say anything for a few seconds, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“No, you—it’s fine, Seonghwa, we were both joking,” he said, his playful tone disappearing.

Seonghwa barely registered his words because all he could think was _“God, why am I so stupid? How could I be pushy to him when I told myself to stop being like that?_ ”

He shook his head, mentally apologizing to Hongjoong who was probably confused at his change of mood. “Sorry,” he repeated, his voice flat. “What did you want to order?”

“Seonghwa…” Hongjoong trailed off.

He prayed Hongjoong wouldn’t ask any questions and just tell him his order.

“What happened?” Hongjoong asked the one question Seonghwa didn’t want to hear. “After what happened last night and you skipped class today too….What’s going on?”

Guilt crept up Seonghwa’s throat. “It’s nothing,” he said tersely, keeping his eyes down.

Hongjoong sighed. “You know you can tell me, right? I said I’ll always be here for you and I meant it,” he softened his voice, heavy with concern.

“I know…” Seonghwa mumbled. “Just...not today.”

“Okay, when you’re ready then,” Hongjoong relented. “And I guess I’ll take a blueberry muffin.”

Hongjoong didn’t come back up to the counter again after that like he usually did (he liked to chat with Seonghwa when he got bored and needed a break), but Seonghwa felt the younger glancing at him every so often.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa tried to focus solely on work and push away the tornado of emotions swarming in him.

Being reminded that he was pushy fucking sucked, but the realization that he failed to stay self-aware and ended up _still_ being pushy sucked even more.

And he felt awful for leaving Hongjoong in the dark about what happened, but he didn’t want to burden him with his issues.

After Seonghwa had dropped Yeosang at home, he finally turned his phone on and was bombarded with texts and missed calls from Hongjoong—all of them asking where he was and if he was okay.

Seonghwa was shocked, to say the least, that Hongjoong seemed really worried about him not being in class and regret had immediately flooded him for not telling Hongjoong he was skipping.

Hongjoong deserved an explanation, but Seonghwa didn’t want to make him worry even more.

He mindlessly worked for the next few hours and kept his mind focused solely on his tasks, rejecting any other thought that tried to sneak its way into his head.

Hongjoong had already left half an hour before closing, which was good because Seonghwa didn’t want him to be out any later than it already was.

When the shop was finally cleared of customers, he and his coworker finished up cleaning the equipment, mopping the floor, and doing cash inventory as quickly as possible so they could get the hell out of there.

Seonghwa was tired. And hungry.

The two worst things combined.

He turned the key until he felt a click, tugging on the locked door for good measure before slipping the key into his bag.

He sluggishly dragged his feet towards the parking lot, pausing when he saw Hongjoong sitting on one of the benches, the streetlight above him casting him in a yellow light.

Why was he still here?

Didn’t he go home?

Had he been here the whole time?

“Why the hell are you still here?” Seonghwa shuffled closer as he shivered slightly.

The air in the late night was always the coldest so Hongjoong must be crazy for sitting out here for god knows how long.

Hongjoong glanced up and rose to his feet. “Oh you’re here! I was waiting for you.”

“What— _why_?” Seonghwa asked incredulously. “You could’ve gone home a lot earlier.”

“I wanted to give you something, but you were working so I just waited,” Hongjoong shrugged like it was no big deal.

Like he didn’t wait more than an hour in the freezing cold for Seonghwa to close the shop.

“You could have waited until tomorrow or something,” Seonghwa said. “I don’t want you to catch a cold for my sake.”

“It’s _okay_ , Seonghwa, this hoodie is pretty warm,” Hongjoong tugged on his sweater. “And I wanted to give it to you now!”

Curious, Seonghwa cocked his head. “What is it that you couldn’t have waited until tomorrow for?”

Hongjoong dug into his bag and pulled out a plain box, presenting it to Seonghwa on his palms.

Seonghwa eyed the closed box suspiciously. “You didn’t put a lizard in there, did you?”

“You really think I would keep a lizard in here for hours?”

“Well, did you?”

“I’m not a barbarian.”

With tentative fingers, Seonghwa took the box into hands and flipped the lid open.

“A mug?” Seonghwa said, confused, as he picked it up by its handle. Then he gasped. “A _cat_ mug?!”

A cat’s face was painted on the mug, the colors resembling a calico cat, and, upon closer inspection, the handle was painted to be the tail.

“But...why?” Seonghwa looked up from the cutest fucking mug ever to find Hongjoong smiling fondly.

“I just thought you would like it,” Hongjoong answered simply, locking his hands behind his back and rocking on his heels.

The cold air that was attacking Seonghwa dissipated as warmth spread through his chest, blooming like a flower.

“I’m gonna cry,” he sniffed dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “You didn’t have to give me the cutest cup in existence.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “It’s really nothing. I wanted to give it to you anyway.”

“And now I feel bad,” Seonghwa pouted, glancing at the mug again. “I don’t have anything to give you.”

“I’ll take a hug as repayment,” Hongjoong grinned, stretching his arms out while wiggling his fingers.

Seonghwa carefully placed the mug back into the box, capping the lid on. “I mean, I guess that’s the least I could do,” he said before wrapping his arms around Hongjoong.

The heat emanating from the shorter boy made Seonghwa subconsciously snuggle further into Hongjoong’s arms as if he could absorb the heat.

“What the hell, how are you so warm? You’re like a living heater.”

“I wasn’t lying about this hoodie being warm,” Hongjoong laughed before squeezing Seonghwa gently and giving his back two comforting pats.

When Seonghwa finally pulled away, Hongjoong was beaming, somehow shining brighter than the streetlight above them.

“Thank you, honestly. I really really love it,” Seonghwa let his voice flood with gratefulness as he directed his gaze to the box. “And cats are my favorite animal so this is probably the best thing I own now.”

“Oh, really?” Hongjoong asked with an innocent smile, but he looked like he knew something Seonghwa didn’t. “I had no idea.”

◆◆◆◆

“....And that concludes our presentation,” Seonghwa spoke to the nonexistent audience in the study room.

He paused for five seconds.

“I think that was good,” Hongjoong commented from the opposite side of the projector screen.

“No, _you_ were good. I’m still awful and I keep forgetting stuff so I look at my notecards too much,” Seonghwa said, flipping through the cards in his hands.

They had about a week until the presentations started so they decided to rehearse it together as they had been practicing by themselves for a good while.

“You were fine, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong reassured him, moving to unplug the cord from his laptop. “We still have a lot of time to practice anyway.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna get better than that,” Seonghwa sighed as he melted into a chair.

Hongjoong was naturally a good public speaker (of course he was) and he made it sound like he actually did know what he was talking about when presenting.

On the other hand, Seonghwa kept stumbling over his words, spoke in choppy sentences, and looked back at his note cards way too often for someone who was supposed to know what they were presenting.

Basically, Seonghwa was screwed.

And he would probably end up dragging Hongjoong down with him.

“Don’t be a party pooper,” Hongjoong poked Seonghwa’s forehead. “You’re not even that awful. Besides, a lot of people get nervous while presenting so it’s not just you.”

Seonghwa folded his arms over the table. “But you’re basically carrying this whole project so I just don’t want you to get a low grade because of me.”

“Don’t give me all the credit,” Hongjoong said. “You did your part too.”

“Yes, but I still don’t know what the fuck is going on,” Seonghwa said pointedly.

Hongjoong stared at Seonghwa in contemplation before reaching his hands out to him, palms facing up. “Give me your hands.”

“What?”

“Give me your hands,” Hongjoong repeated, wiggling his fingers.

“I—Okay?” Seonghwa did as he was told and placed his hands over Hongjoong’s palms.

Then Hongjoong moved his fingers until they were curled up with Seonghwa’s, gently grasping them.

In the back of Seonghwa’s mind, he noticed how small Hongjoong’s hands were compared to his own.

“Listen to me,” Hongjoong began, locking his gaze onto Seonghwa’s. “You’re going to be fine. _We’re_ going to be fine. You’re not as bad as you think and if you’re really worried, you have a lot of time to practice until you’re satisfied. And no one in class is gonna be a perfect presenter, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Seonghwa lowered his eyes to their grasped hands. “I guess you’re right. I’ll try to find the time to keep practicing though.”

“You can do it! And even if you don’t believe in yourself, just know that I do.”

Seonghwa sighed dramatically. 

It was easier said than done, but he still appreciated Hongjoong’s optimism.

If someone could balance Seonghwa’s dramatic negativity, it would be Hongjoong.

“You have small hands, by the way,” he remarked off-handedly.

A smile tugged at Hongjoong’s lips. 

“Yeah, but they’re perfect for holding,” he twisted his hands to lace them through Seonghwa’s fingers, their inner wrists touching the table. “See?” he lightly shook their hands from side to side.

“Sorry if this is a weird question, but do you moisturize or something?” Seonghwa rubbed his thumb against Hongjoong’s, in awe of how it could probably rival against a baby’s skin.

“I do actually,” Hongjoong replied, seeming amused by the sudden observation.

“Wait now I feel insecure,” Seonghwa pulled his hands away. “My hands are dry and cold most of the time.”

“I can always warm them up for you,” Hongjoong waved his hands like he was doing jazz-hands. “I usually charge a dollar per minute, but for you it’s free.”

“How kind of you,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes, smiling at Hongjoong’s joke. His eyes wandered over to the glass window, finding another group of students sneaking glances at them. “Do you wanna leave now? It looks like other people need to use a room.”

“Sure!” Hongjoong said, beginning to pack up his belongings. “Can we go to Twilight?”

“Of course.”

They vacated the room quickly, letting the other group take their places, and exited the library.

Gloomy skies greeted them outside and even though it wasn’t windy, the air was a bit chilly.

“Fuck, I didn’t check the weather today,” Seonghwa said as he looked up at the gray clouds, crossing his arms to rub at his upper arms.

He regretted his decision in wearing just a T-shirt without bringing some sort of jacket with him, but he didn’t know the temperature would drop.

He should’ve expected it though since winter was approaching.

“You’re cold? Are you cold?” Hongjoong asked, but before Seonghwa could answer, he was already slipping off his big fuzzy jacket that made him look like a polar bear.

“Wait—” Seonghwa started, surprised at his sudden gesture.

But Hongjoong ignored whatever Seonghwa was about to say and rose up on his tiptoes to toss the jacket around Seonghwa, his eyes focused on adjusting it to stay snug at the front. “We can’t have you getting sick.”

So there Seonghwa stood with Hongjoong’s polar bear jacket now wrapped around his shoulders.

Which left Hongjoong in just a long-sleeved shirt.

“But...what about you? I can’t take your jacket when you might get sick now,” Seonghwa protested and moved his hand to the collar, intending to remove the jacket.

Hongjoong quickly covered Seonghwa’s hand with his own, stopping him before batting the older’s hand away. “You only have a T-shirt on. Don’t worry about me,” he ensured the garment was wrapped securely around Seonghwa.

“Aren’t you cold too?” Seonghwa asked.

Honestly speaking, he was very touched that Hongjoong willingly gave away his jacket without a second thought.

Most of the time, Seonghwa was the one taking care and looking after others—that was his role.

He made sure no one got hurt or did anything stupid, and if they did, then he’d be there to help them through it.

And he was used to looking after Hongjoong.

Seonghwa always made sure the younger got home safely after staying late at Twilight, driving him home if necessary.

At that party, he had tried his best to take care of and protect Hongjoong during the incident with the angry drunk.

It was always Seonghwa taking glances to check on how people were feeling.

But this time...even with the small act of giving Seonghwa his jacket, Seonghwa felt like _he_ was being taken care of for the first time.

And it felt….kinda nice.

Hongjoong tied the hood’s strings into a neat bow and poked Seonghwa’s cheek. “I am,” he admitted with a smile. The sun was covered by clouds, but how were his eyes sparkling? “Which is why we need to run before I become a popsicle!”

He grabbed Seonghwa’s hand and pulled him forward, breaking into a sprint and causing Seonghwa to yelp in surprise.

They zoomed past buildings and students and Seonghwa felt like he was gonna die.

Hongjoong sure was determined to reach Twilight as fast as possible at the rate he was going at.

“Why—why are you so fast?” Seonghwa panted between breaths.

He nearly tripped over his feet when they turned a corner, but Hongjoong just tightened his grip and continued running, lugging Seonghwa along.

Hongjoong turned his head around and slightly slowed down. “Don’t be a baby—we’re almost there!” he laughed brightly, his face scrunching up.

Fortunately, Hongjoong slowed to a jog and Seonghwa almost ascended at seeing Twilight in view.

When they reached the front doors, Hongjoong gave him a look. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said, to which Seonghwa looked at him with a distressed face.

He released Seonghwa’s hand to pull the door open, allowing the older to enter first.

And just maybe Seonghwa already missed the feeling of Hongjoong’s hand in his, but he would never ever admit that out loud.

“Did you want to order anything?” Hongjoong asked.

Seonghwa shook his head. “I’ll just find a table.”

Hongjoong skipped away to join the line as Seonghwa swiveled his head around to find an empty table, which was tough since they were always occupied in the day.

He managed to snag one of the high tables as his eyes wandered over to Hongjoong, who was gazing up at the menu with his cheeks puffed and a hand, mostly covered by his sleeve, pressed against his mouth in contemplation.

_Cute._

Wait.

What the fuck.

Where the fuck did _that_ come from?

He...he didn’t just think that _Hongjoong_ was _cute_ , right?

That’s…

He….

Okay.

Seonghwa needed to get his shit together.

He was aware Hongjoong could be considered cute.

His mind flashed with the memory of seeing Hongjoong at the party dressed in all black with his makeup done, remembering how good he looked that night.

(And Seonghwa kind of wanted to see Hongjoong wearing makeup again, but that’s not the point.)

Okay so Hongjoong could be considered attractive too.

It wasn’t weird to think your friends were cute in a probably platonic way, right?

There were times when Seonghwa thought Yeosang was cute in a little brother kind of way. And there were times when he thought Wooyoung was cute for trying different tactics to get out of doing his responsibilities at work.

But did he see Hongjoong in a little brother way?

In what way did he even see Hongjoong?

The sound of metal dragging across the floor snapped Seonghwa out of his internal dilemma as Hongjoong slid into the chair and placed his cup on the table along with a paper bag that Seonghwa recognized as one of the pastry bags.

“For you,” Hongjoong slid the bag closer to Seonghwa.

“Me?” Seonghwa asked, confused at the surprise treat. He looked into the bag to find a strawberries and cream croissant, which was one of the more pricier baked goods Twilight had in stock.

“I remember you liked strawberries and I saw it so I just felt like getting it for you,” Hongjoong answered Seonghwa’s unspoken question.

“Oh…” Seonghwa stared at the strawberries placed delicately on the cream. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did.”

Maybe it was Hongjoong’s jacket doing an extremely good job at keeping him warm, but he felt his cheeks warming up and a tug at his heart.

“You’ve been spoiling me so much lately, I’m starting to think you want something from me,” Seonghwa joked to cover up how flattered he felt that Hongjoong remembered such a random detail about him.

“The only thing I want from you is your love and affection,” Hongjoong said lightheartedly, his eyes looking at him with a teasing glint over the rim of his cup.

“How smooth,” Seonghwa chuckled as he plucked a strawberry off the pastry. “Practicing how to woo someone?”

“Is it working? Are you swooning yet?” Hongjoong propped his elbows on the table and interlocked his fingers under his chin, batting his eyelashes.

Seonghwa recalled how his brain went _“cute”_ at Hongjoong just standing there in line and he looked from the strawberry to Hongjoong’s eyes.

His eyes that were always bright and genuine, seemingly full of wonder and joy and sometimes pure innocence.

His eyes that always looked at Seonghwa with nothing but kindness (and playfulness when he joked around).

And maybe Seonghwa had always known, but he never truly acknowledged it.

“It” being the way Hongjoong would sometimes look at Seonghwa as if he hung the stars himself. 

As if it was Seonghwa who painted the sunsets and decorated the night sky with constellations.

He could be interpreting Hongjoong’s expressions completely wrong though, so he never dared to think about it for more than 0.002 seconds.

_Just a little._

“You already know I suck at those things,” Seonghwa said, gathering some cream onto the strawberry while shutting down his previous thoughts completely. “So I’m a terrible person to practice your smooth moves on.”

“But what if I don’t wanna practice with anybody else?” Hongjoong leaned in closer.

Seonghwa bit into the strawberry to give him something to do. “Then I guess you’re gonna have to practice by yourself.”

“It might just come to that after all,” Hongjoong sighed, pulling away to rest against the back of the chair.

A blast of heated air from the shop’s vents made Seonghwa aware of the jacket still around him. “I forgot—” he quickly untied the bow of the hood’s strings, intending to give the jacket back.

“No, no,” Hongjoong held out his hands to motion him to stop. “You can keep it on if you’re still cold.”

Seonghwa paused with one hand already grasping one side of the garment. “But it’s yours and I’ve been wearing it the whole time.”

If there’s one thing Seonghwa would admit, it would be the fact that he actually wanted to keep the jacket on—because of how soft and comfortable it was!

Not because it was Hongjoong who wrapped it around him and it smelled kind of nice like fresh laundry.

Definitely not because of that.

“You can give it back after art history,” Hongjoong said. “Besides, it looks better on you than on me anyway.”

Seonghwa lowered his hand. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

◆◆◆◆

The next day, Seonghwa spent hours trying to get as much work done as possible the moment he got home from classes before laziness kicked in.

Midterms were approaching quickly as well, which meant he had to get his ass in gear and study hard for the sake of his grades.

Guessing on answers could only get him so far, despite being the tactic he usually fell back on.

But before he could actually focus on studying, there was a chemistry assignment he had to deal with first.

“ _And for number five, the answer is sulfur trioxide because…_ ” Yunho rattled off his explanation through Seonghwa’s phone.

“I don’t understand anything you just said but I’m writing it all down anyway,” Seonghwa replied, typing quickly on his laptop.

Yunho’s laugh crackled through the speaker. “ _Chem isn’t for everyone, but it helps to break it down to understand how the chemicals react with each other_.”

“And that’s why I’m grateful for your existence, Yunho,” Seonghwa scrolled along the document to check if he completed the whole worksheet. “I’m only passing this class because of you.”

“ _Don’t sell yourself short! You’re a smart guy too_.”

Seonghwa snorted. “I’m only good at memorizing.”

“ _Nah, I know you got a big brain in that head of yours. Anyway, did you need help with anything else? Math?_ ”

If Seonghwa was rich, he would buy Yunho his own island. Maybe even two islands, if he really wanted.

Yunho was always willing to help with assignments and explain the concepts in a way Seonghwa could actually understand.

And god knows Seonghwa needed someone like Yunho to guide him through chem.

“No, I’m good with math,” Seonghwa replied before his lips slowly quirked into a smirk. “By the way, I ran into Mingi the other day.”

The line was silent for a few seconds. “ _Why do I feel a bit scared by that? Did he say anything?_ ”

Seonghwa leaned back against his chair, swiveling it around in a slow circle. “We didn’t talk for long, but he said, and I quote, ‘ _It’s going great_ ’ so I wonder how great it actually has been.”

Yunho released a noise that somewhat resembled a choking sound. “ _Believe me when I say he’s just a baby trapped in a six foot tall body. He’s so smart that it’s lowkey kinda hot, but I also want to put him in my pocket at the same time, you know?_ ”

Seonghwa blinked. “So it’s going great, is what I’m hearing. Are you still pretending you’re not an actual math genius?”

“ _Oh, he knows I can actually do math now. I accidentally said too many smart things when he was trying to help me with a problem and I couldn’t continue faking it._ ”

“How did he react?”

“ _He was cool with it. He had the most precious face on when I told him the whole tutoring thing was just an excuse to see him more. We’re actually going on a date this weekend!_ ”

“Damn, you guys move fast,” Seonghwa commented, swinging his legs up on the edge of his bed. “Let me know how the date goes.”

“ _We both_ — _Huh?_ ”

“What?”

“ _Oh my god, he’s calling right now_ — _Mingi is calling, what do I do?!”_ Yunho’s voice became panicked.

“Answer it!” Seonghwa exclaimed. “Okay I’m hanging up now, have fun talking to him!”

Seonghwa promptly ended the call, causing the screen to light up with his call history.

Yunho’s panicked voice replayed in his mind and he lightly chuckled at how pure Yunho’s reaction was.

He was glad things were going well between Mingi and Yunho though.

They were like two giants made for each other.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts before he spent the next few hours distracted from studying.

He swung his chair around and rolled himself towards his desk, plopping his math notebook on the surface and opening up the study guide on his computer.

◆◆◆◆

The sound Seonghwa’s ringtone blared, breaking the silence of the late night.

Seonghwa jolted awake from the sudden alarm as he clutched his heart from the spike of panic the sound gave him.

Why the fuck was he getting a call at this ungodly hour?

He flipped onto his back, rubbing at his eyes as his other hand blindly patted around his sheets for his phone.

He held the device above him and the bright light forced him to squint to read who the fuck was calling him.

Were his eyes playing tricks on him or did the screen say Hongjoong?

It was three in the morning—why was Hongjoong calling him _now_?

Seonghwa swiped the screen to answer and pressed it against his ear.

“Hello? Hongjoong? What’s going on?” Seonghwa said, his voice drowsy from sleep, as he tossed an arm over his face.

“ _Oh fuck, sorry. I meant to call someone else_ — _I meant to click the name above yours._ ”

Seonghwa sat up on his bed, more awake now that he detected Hongjoong’s voice to sound somewhat hoarse. “What happened? Where are you? Are you home?” he spoke rapidly, throwing his blanket off him.

“ _I’m out but I’m okay, I meant to call San,_ ” Hongjoong said, but Seonghwa didn’t like how drained he sounded. “ _You can go back to sleep._ ”

Seonghwa grabbed his keys and wallet, briefly pausing to consider slipping some socks on, but decided against it.

“No, fuck sleep,” he held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he grabbed a jacket and stumbled into the living room. “Are you hurt? I’m coming to get you. Where are you?”

The line was silent, which nearly sent Seonghwa into cardiac arrest.

“Hongjoong? Are you there?” he shut the front door behind him and sped to his car.

He tossed the jacket on the passenger seat, revving up the engine.

Sleep be damned—how could he go back to sleep when Hongjoong didn’t sound okay?

“ _Sorry_ ,” Hongjoong’s voice crackled. “ _I’m outside near the bar by that one sushi restaurant close to campus._ ”

Seonghwa backed his car out of the parking space. “Alright, I’m on my way. Don’t move and stay safe, okay?”

The connection ended, meaning Hongjoong hung up first.

Seonghwa drove as legally fast as possible, which wasn’t too hard since there were no other cars out on the streets.

Hongjoong didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, but the fact that his voice was flat and hoarse did not sit right with Seonghwa.

And receiving a call at 3 in the morning was never a good sign.

The place Hongjoong was talking about wasn’t too far so Seonghwa arrived quickly and parked in front of the sushi restaurant.

The bar next to it was lively and crowded as ever and he could hear the music filtering through the door.

 _“Outside near the bar”_ Hongjoong had said.

With his jacket tossed over a shoulder, he swiftly evaded the few stragglers outside the bar, rounding the corner after he discerned that none of them were Hongjoong.

“Hongjoong?” he called out into the dark.

The lamplights only illuminated up the front of the building, not the sides, so Seonghwa couldn’t see shit in the dark.

“Hongjoong?” he tried again. Hongjoong never specified where exactly he was, so Seonghwa just had to make guesses. “It’s me, Seonghwa.”

Worry began to flood his body when only cricket noises answered him and he almost retreated to the front of the building again until he heard a meek “I’m here.”

Seonghwa quickly switched his phone’s flashlight on, waving it around at a low angle until he spotted Hongjoong squatting against the wall, his knees pulled up against his chest as he peered back at Seonghwa with the most worn-out eyes Seonghwa had ever seen on him.

He just...looked so small.

Seonghwa jogged towards him and turned off his flashlight.

“Are you okay?” he knelt down on his knees, trying to see if Hongjoong was hurt now that his eyes were adjusted to the dark. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“N-no, I’m not hurt,” Hongjoong shook his head.

Seonghwa sniffed the air. “Did you drink?”

“Just a little bit,” Hongjoong mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself.

“What happened? Why—never mind,” Seonghwa cut himself off. “You don’t need to tell me anything.”

He took his jacket and threw it over Hongjoong’s body, securing it over his shoulders like how Hongjoong had done to Seonghwa the other day.

“Come on,” Seonghwa stood up, expecting Hongjoong to stand up with him.

But Hongjoong remained squatting there, unmoving.

Seonghwa sighed and remembered what kind of person Hongjoong was.

He crouched down again and took Hongjoong’s hand into his, squeezing gently. “Let me take you home, okay?”

Hongjoong nodded and finally rose to his feet.

Seonghwa was right. In these kinds of situations, Hongjoong was more responsive to physical touch.

He led Hongjoong out of the darkness and released his hand when they reached the car.

Hongjoong spoke up again when Seonghwa turned the key in the ignition.

“I don’t want Mingi to see me like this,” he said, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Seonghwa paused. “So you don’t want to go home? Is there somewhere else you want to go?”

Hongjoong didn’t reply.

“Do you…want to go to my apartment then?” he offered.

“If that’s okay,” Hongjoong mumbled, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Of course it’s okay.”

The car ride to Seonghwa’s apartment was silent and Seonghwa occasionally snuck glances at Hongjoong to check up on him, but he was simply staring down at his lap the whole time.

Seonghwa shut the door behind him once Hongjoong entered the apartment and watched the younger shuffle to the couch.

“Do you want water? Or anything to eat?” Seonghwa asked, flicking on the lamp beside the couch.

“Water is fine,” Hongjoong replied, curling inwards on himself.

With Seonghwa’s jacket still wrapped around him, Hongjoong looked smaller than usual sitting on the couch that looked like it could easily swallow him into the cushions.

Seonghwa filled up a glass with water and placed it on the table in front of Hongjoong before moving to one of the storage cabinets where he kept spare blankets.

He threw one over his shoulder and entered his room to find some comfortable clothes for Hongjoong.

He neatly folded a sweater and pants into a pile and headed back out to the living room.

He took a seat next to Hongjoong, the cushion dipping under him, and handed the pile of clothes over.

“Here, they’ll be a little big on you, but I doubt you don’t want to change into something more comfortable,” he said. “And here’s a blanket. Unless you prefer to sleep on an actual bed? I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

Hongjoong gingerly took the clothes, resting a hand on top of it. “No, this is fine. You don’t have to give up your bed for me.”

“The bathroom is down the hall,” Seonghwa jerked his head towards it.

While Hongjoong changed his clothes in the bathroom, Seonghwa debated whether to ask Hongjoong what had happened or not.

Would it be a good idea to ask? Or would it be better to just leave it be and wait until Hongjoong brought it up himself?

The sound of the bathroom door swinging open ended Seonghwa’s train of thought.

If Hongjoong respected Seonghwa’s decision to wait until he was ready to talk about why he was crying on the phone the other night, then Seonghwa would do the same and just wait it out.

Seonghwa had assumed his clothes would just be a little big on Hongjoong, but apparently he was wrong because Hongjoong was basically swimming in them.

The shirt hung loosely around Hongjoong’s frame and he had rolled the pants up once to avoid tripping over his feet.

He rejoined Seonghwa on the couch and unfolded the blanket over his lap. “Thank you,” he said and glanced over at the older, cracking a smile. “Cute pajamas, by the way.”

Seonghwa looked down at his attire and completely forgot he had run out of his home in just his pajamas.

And now that they were in better lighting, the cartoon whale printed on his shirt was visible as ever.

“My clothes were the last thing on my mind,” Seonghwa defended himself, embarrassment heating his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Hongjoong averted his gaze. “Earlier today…”

Seonghwa adjusted his body so he could fully face Hongjoong, showing him that he was listening.

“I went on a date with some guy,” Hongjoong began.

Oh.

That...wasn’t what Seonghwa was expecting him to say.

Hongjoong fiddled with his fingers again. “He asked me today so I just said yes because he seemed nice and I thought I could get over….never mind. But he was pretty nice and all. It wasn’t like he was a complete asshole.”

Seonghwa waited for the “but” part of the story.

“But then he wanted to go to a bar and I just went with it because I didn’t want to argue back. I had one drink, but he kept pressuring me to drink more even though I didn’t want to.”

“What the fuck?” Seonghwa blurted.

“So I just snuck out of the bar until you found me,” Hongjoong finished, running his hands over the soft blanket. “I’m stupid, aren’t I?”

“You’re not stupid,” Seonghwa refuted. “He wasn’t worth your time. And he sounds like an asshole to me so if you told me about him when I found you, I would’ve gone in and knocked him out myself.”

Hongjoong managed to huff a laugh. “You’re always protecting me from drunk assholes, huh?”

“I’ll protect you from assholes, drunk or not,” Seonghwa declared with a nod.

When Hongjoong raised his eyes to meet Seonghwa’s, Seonghwa’s body froze.

Hongjoong was doing that thing again.

That thing where he looked at Seonghwa as if he shaped the stars and crafted the universe by hand.

As if Seonghwa had done something important and profound.

As if Seonghwa was the only thing he could see.

And frankly...that scared him.

 _Stop it_.

Seonghwa looked away first right when Hongjoong dove forward across Seonghwa’s lap to bury his face into his chest, circling his arms around him.

Seonghwa froze again until he mentally told his body to not be stiff like a rock and hug back like a normal human.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong said into his chest. “And I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa released a breath as he let one hand stroke the back of Hongjoong’s head, feeling the other boy’s body let go of its pent up tension. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

He hoped Hongjoong couldn’t hear how his heart may have picked up a little.

Seonghwa let him take all the physical comfort he needed until Hongjoong pulled away first.

“Get some sleep, alright?” Seonghwa said, noticing how exhausted Hongjoong looked.

He rose to his feet, intending to shut the lamp off and go back to his room, but a hand on his own stopped him.

“Can you stay?” Hongjoong asked, reminding Seonghwa of a child with the way he was holding onto Seonghwa’s hand and peering up at him. “Just until I fall asleep?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” Seonghwa said without hesitation, sitting back down at the edge of the couch to give Hongjoong more room.

He watched Hongjoong lay on his side, with his head near Seonghwa’s legs, and curl his legs up as he tossed the blanket over himself.

Hongjoong lifted his head up to look around before grabbing Seonghwa’s hand again and finally settling down, letting their locked hands rest in front of his face.

Seonghwa twisted his body to shut off the lamp, encasing the room in complete darkness.

He let his body relax against the couch as his head dipped back into the soft cushion.

“Good night,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for waiting patiently for this chapter once again! i truly appreciate the support and understanding 💖
> 
> and a lot of things happened in this chapter 👀 i hope it made up for the long wait i made you guys go through!! things are FINALLY progressing thank god
> 
> and i made seongjoong hold hands a lot because i think hand holding is cute and meaningful so boom a bunch of hand holding
> 
> and the part where joong gave hwa his jacket going "are you cold????" is a reference to that one video where it was a fansign during answer era and hwa said "i'm cold" and joong just stood up and took off his jacket saying "you're cold??? seonghwa is cold?????" and wrapped it around hwa 💔💔💔


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's cherry! hope you enjoy reading ^.^

Wooyoung passionately throwing his ass back was not what Seonghwa expected to see when he came into work.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked with his crumbled apron in hand.

Wooyoung turned his head to glance back at Seonghwa. “You’re not interrupting if you join me.”

Seonghwa blinked. “Your shift started two minutes ago so get your ass out there.”

“You’re just jealous of all this cake,” Wooyoung remarked as he brushed past Seonghwa and exited out of the back room.

Seonghwa ignored him and stored his belongings into one of the lockers before fitting the apron over himself.

After he washed his hands, he joined Wooyoung at the front and immediately busied himself with making drinks and bagging pastries as the other took orders.

“Ah! Park. Seong. Hwa,” a deep voice enunciated each syllable. “I see we’ve crossed paths once again.”

Seonghwa looked up from capping a lid onto a cup to be faced with Mingi on the other side of the counter. “You know I work here, Mingi,” he said before calling out the order number.

“No need to get into the details,” Mingi waved his hand. “You’re just the man I wanted to see.”

“That sounds ominous,” Seonghwa commented, already working on the next drink.

This customer wanted seven shots of espresso apparently, which was concerning, but who was Seonghwa to judge?

“I come with important news that I think would be useful to you,” Mingi spoke in a tone like he was offering words of wisdom.

“And that is?” Seonghwa watched the espresso drip into the small measuring cup.

“Tomorrow is Hongjoong’s birthday.”

Seonghwa nearly dropped the measuring cup as he was pouring the liquid.

“ _What_?!”

Mingi closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “You heard me. Tomorrow marks the birth of the one and only Kim Hongjoong.”

“Oh my god, he never told me,” Seonghwa panicked, causing his hands to also panic while assembling the beverage together.

“I figured he didn’t so that’s why I came here to tell you myself. You’re welcome,” Mingi said smugly. 

“What am I—there’s not enough time to prepare something for him!” 

He should bake something for him right?

Hongjoong had requested Seonghwa to bake something for him, so this would be the perfect opportunity to give him just that.

But what should he bake?

If Seonghwa had more time, he would’ve planned out a detailed cake in advance, but he was short on time as midnight was quite literally just a few hours away.

Oh shit, did he even have the right ingredients on hand?

Just a cake wouldn’t be good enough though…

What the fuck would be a good gift?

“And that’s why I’m here to tell you that Hongjoong finishes class at one and he already told me he’s going to go home right after that. He doesn’t like big parties so he wanted to just stay at home like a loser,” Mingi rattled off.

Seonghwa paused. “So….”

What did Mingi want him to do exactly?

“So for three hours, San, Jongho, and I are gonna have a surprise birthday party waiting for him at home. After that, he’s all yours,” Mingi spread his arms out.

“What do you mean?” Seonghwa asked slowly.

He didn’t know how he felt about the way Mingi was smirking at him.

“Take him on a date, eat at a fancy restaurant, take a romantic walk, serenade him with an orchestra—I don’t know,” Mingi listed as he gestured vaguely in the air. “Just do _something_. Just the two of you.”

_Date._

Why did Mingi make it sound like Seonghwa and Hongjoong were...dating?

“Mingi, Hongjoong and I are just friends,” Seonghwa said.

“Sure, and I’m completely straight,” Mingi shot back sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Are you gonna take him on a date or what?”

Seonghwa might just slap himself for feeling fuzzy at the idea of taking Hongjoong on a….

On a...

He can’t even say—or think—the D word.

He and Hongjoong were just friends. That was all.

Nothing more and nothing less.

“I’ll try to plan something,” Seonghwa said instead of confirming Mingi’s question. “And it’s not gonna be a date.”

“Whatever you say,” Mingi smirked again. “I won’t tell him you’ll be picking him up so it’ll be a surprise. Oh, and he really likes flowers, by the way,” he said before tossing his hand up in a wave as he left the cafe.

Fuck, okay.

So Seonghwa had to prepare a cake tonight and figure out a gift for Hongjoong.

He had planned to do some assignments in advance, but he figured he could do them before classes tomorrow.

The moment he came home from work, the first thing he did was whip out his phone and scroll through the list of cake recipes he often updated.

His thumb stopped at one recipe as he bit his lip in contemplation.

This recipe was perfect…..as long as he had the key ingredient.

After a quick check in his refrigerator and a sigh of relief that he did have the most important part of the recipe, he opened up his messages with Hongjoong and noticed that Hongjoong had texted him while he was working.

**Hongjoong:** mingi has been giggling ominously whenever he looks me and idk how i feel about that

 **Hongjoong:** the last time he did that he took my credit card and bought a giant skeleton prop so maybe i should lock up my wallet

Seonghwa huffed a laugh.

**Seonghwa:** maybe you should sleep with one eye open

 **Hongjoong:** why does that sound like you’re threatening me too

 **Hongjoong:** is this the beginning of your villain origin story

 **Seonghwa:** yes i’m currently picking out my villain costume

 **Seonghwa:** also do you like chocolate

 **Hongjoong:** normally i’d ask why you’re asking but i’m tired so i’ll just say yes

 **Seonghwa:** lovely

 **Seonghwa:** don’t stay up too late

His fingers itched to wish him a happy birthday too as midnight had already struck, but Mingi said Seonghwa’s presence was supposed to be a surprise and Hongjoong didn’t know that Seonghwa knew it was his birthday.

He was about to set his phone down until it vibrated with another text.

**Hongjoong:** maybe if you were here to hold my hand while i fell asleep i wouldn’t have to stay up late

A tingly feeling shot through Seonghwa’s body.

_This is just how Hongjoong is. It’s just his personality._

With slightly panicked fingers, he hastily typed out a response.

**Seonghwa:** you have 2 hands for a reason

That was a safe reply.

**Hongjoong:** meanie :(

 **Hongjoong:** check out these fluffy cows

 **Hongjoong:**

**Seonghwa:** those cows are quite fluffy

 **Hongjoong:** the best cows i’ve ever seen

 **Hongjoong:** okie goodnighty dream of me

 **Seonghwa:** goodnight

Seonghwa clicked his phone off, a smile lingering on his lips. 

He slowly rotated his neck, working out the kinks and knots before grabbing his apron.

He was gonna make the best damn cake Hongjoong has ever tasted.

◆◆◆◆

Seonghwa’s foot tapped against the ground urgently as he sat on the edge of his seat, ready to zoom out of the lecture hall the moment the professor finished speaking.

The nerves running through his body were telling him to just leave early, but he had to stay for any new announcements.

But if this hag didn’t stop talking already—

“That will be all for today,” the professor finished.

Thank _fuck_.

His legs have never moved so fast out of his seat, down the pathway, and out of the hall.

Mingi had said he would be throwing Hongjoong a surprise party for three hours, so by now, it was hour two of the party.

Seonghwa only had an hour to get Hongjoong’s gift, put everything he prepared into his car, and spend at least 15 minutes figuring out how to not act like a dumbass in front of him.

And possibly buy some flowers if he had enough time.

Curse these damn classes.

He rubbed at his eyes as he sped through campus, making way to his car.

He had gotten only a few hours of sleep since he had to prepare the cake and since he decided on having a picnic, he had to prepare other foods as well at the ass crack of dawn.

Going to classes did not help with his fatigue.

Once he finished the drive to his apartment, his phone vibrated.

**Hongjoong:** send help

 **Hongjoong:** mingi is trying to make us learn how to tango dance and i really don’t want to be here

 **Seonghwa:** i see mingi is a man of many talents

 **Hongjoong:** i tell you abt my suffering and you compliment mingi </3

 **Hongjoong:** where’s my compliment

Seonghwa’s lips curled into a smile.

**Seonghwa:** i’m sure you’re great at tango

 **Seonghwa:** just hang in there a bit more

After entering his apartment, he whipped out two tote bags and headed for the fridge to take out the cake.

It still looked perfect as it did last night, luckily. 

He really hoped Hongjoong would like it, otherwise it was going to be very awkward and Seonghwa would probably die of embarrassment.

He grabbed a cake box from a cabinet and folded it together, sliding the cake into the box carefully before placing it in a tote bag.

Then he grabbed the containers that held the sandwiches and variations of fruit he prepared last night.

He had no idea what kinds of fruits Hongjoong liked, so he prepared as many as he could get.

After triple checking he didn’t forget anything, he was about to leave until he caught his reflection in the body mirror leaning against the wall near the door.

His eyes trailed over his form, taking in his sweatpants and hoodie.

Should he change?

Should he just leave like this?

Without a second thought, he dropped the tote bags and dashed to his room, sliding off his hoodie.

He tossed the garment unceremoniously on his bed and shifted through the clothes hangers in his closet before pulling out a soft white cardigan.

Pulling it on, he got rid of his sweatpants and shimmied his legs through a pair of skinny jeans.

He checked his appearance at the body mirror again.

Okay, good.

 _Now_ he looked presentable.

But he also had only thirty minutes to get Hongjoong’s gift and make it to his apartment since Seonghwa’s plans were heavily dependent on the time.

Fortunately he was able to make it to the small store in one piece after driving as fast as he legally could.

He burst through the door, scaring the girl at the register.

Lined against the walls were various themed bags, keychains, hats, and plushies.

Seonghwa had heard about this store a while ago since it was known for its niche in cute themed merchandise and he had been wanting to buy a cute cat plush.

But the cat plush would have to wait because there was one particular hat he was looking for.

His eyes scanned across the variety of colorful berets. Some were embroidered, some had ribbons, and some had animal ears on them.

He located the beret he wanted and brought it up to the register.

“For your girlfriend?” the girl asked as she entered the product into the machine.

Seonghwa blinked. “Um,” he stammered. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend.” He handed her some bills once he saw the total.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to assume like that,” she apologized, carefully placing the beret into a bag. “For your boyfriend then? Most people come here to buy gifts for their partner.”

Why did this keep happening to him?

“No, just a friend,” he replied, taking the bag from her. “Thank you.”

“Have a nice day!” she called behind him.

What was it with people thinking Seonghwa and Hongjoong were dating?

It wasn’t like they were flirting with each other or anything. They didn’t do anything that could make people misunderstand.

Brushing those thoughts away, he focused on getting to Hongjoong’s apartment.

He stood with his fist raised, ready to knock on the door when he heard a loud (and concerning) crash come from inside.

Muffled yelling quickly followed, but Seonghwa couldn’t hear who it was.

He rapped his fist against the door and waited.

But then his mind started racing with thoughts about what he was even going to say to Hongjoong.

Was saying happy birthday too simple? But it _was_ his birthday and that’s what people say so it’s not too simple, right? Or should he—

The door swung open and lo and behold, Hongjoong stood on the other side with a colorful party hat on his head.

They blinked at each other.

“What are you—” Hongjoong began.

“Birth!” Seonghwa blurted out.

He internally smacked himself.

He really could’ve just went with a simple happy birthday, but of course his mouth had to embarrass him like this.

“Huh?”

“I mean, happy birthday!” Seonghwa spread his arms out in emphasis, smiling.

Hongjoong continued to stare and slowly broke out into a grin. “Thanks, but how did you know?”

Seonghwa opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself when he heard Mingi’s voice bellowing from inside.

“Is that Seonghwa?!” he yelled, bounding his way to the door. “Perfect, you’re right on time!”

Seonghwa needed to take a moment once he saw the giant picture of Hongjoong’s face printed on Mingi’s shirt.

Then he took another moment to consider asking Mingi if he had an extra.

“Why didn’t you let him in already?” Mingi shoved Hongjoong aside to pull Seonghwa through the doorway.

“On time?” Hongjoong repeated. “Wait, what’s going on?”

This was the first time Seonghwa has ever stepped foot inside and he really did not expect all the….interesting party decorations.

Every single decoration—the balloons, banners, the toppers on the cupcakes, even the fucking pillows on the sofa—had Hongjoong’s face printed on it.

It was like a Hongjoong museum.

“Seonghwa! Good to see you again!” San bounded his way over, a cup in hand that unsurprisingly also had Hongjoong’s face on it. He leaned in close to Seonghwa’s ear and held a hand up so the others wouldn’t hear. “We’ve been keeping him busy until you came to take him on your date.”

“It’s not a date,” Seonghwa whispered furiously.

Can’t two friends just have a friendly hang out?

San raised his eyebrows and took a sip from his cup. “If you say so.”

“Cupcake?” Jongho popped out of nowhere, presenting a cupcake on his palm. “It’s red velvet. I made it myself.”

Ignoring the little topper that also had Hongjoong’s face, the treat _did_ look enticing, but Seonghwa had to save his stomach for the picnic. “No, I’m okay. If there are any leftovers, I can take some home later.”

“Did you guys plan this? I don’t think I ever told Seonghwa today was my birthday,” Hongjoong came up from behind, squinting at his three friends.

“Mingi told me at work last night, actually,” Seonghwa confessed.

Hongjoong looked to the perpetrator who stood there grinning a boxy smile shamelessly.

“That’s not important,” Mingi waved it off. “What’s important is that you need to get changed, Hongjoong!”

He proceeded to push Hongjoong from behind and into his room while Hongjoong frowned. “Changed? For what? I’m already changed.”

“So where are you taking him?” Jongho asked, licking the frosting off his cupcake.

“Well,” Seonghwa rocked on his heels. “I wanted to do a picnic and then go to a flower garden during sunset.”

Jongho and San exchanged knowing looks.

“And you said it wasn’t a date,” San said pointedly.

“Because it’s not,” Seonghwa defended.

“A picnic? Flower garden? Sounds pretty romantic to me,” Jongho nodded.

Seonghwa sighed.

It wasn’t a date! It really wasn’t!

“I didn’t have enough time to prepare anything else and Mingi said Hongjoong liked flowers, so I just…” he shrugged helplessly. “We don’t like each other like that and it’s not like Hongjoong would ever look in my direction anyway.”

“Wow,” San voiced out.

“I kind of want to go and stalk you guys on your ‘hang out’ now,” Jongho said, using air quotations with his fingers.

“Please don’t.”

“The man of the hour is ready now!” Mingi bellowed, throwing the bedroom door open.

Out came a confused and somewhat disgruntled Hongjoong who had changed into a pair of dark jeans and a white shirt with an unbuttoned pale blue shirt thrown over.

“Are we going somewhere? What was wrong with what I was wearing before?” Hongjoong looked around.

“ _You’re_ going somewhere,” Mingi answered, pushing Hongjoong to the door.

Seonghwa checked the time on his phone. “Yeah, we should get going now. I don’t wanna be on a time crunch.”

“Where are we going?” Hongjoong continued to ask, pulling on his shoes.

Mingi opened the door and gestured to it. “Bye, have fun! But not too much fun!”

“Huh?”

“Bye, guys,” Seonghwa waved to San and Jongho. “Nice decorations by the way.”

“Feels good to be appreciated,” San looked content. “Hongjoong thought it was embarrassing but we think it really adds to the festivities.”

Hongjoong followed Seonghwa out to his car, voicing questions out loud, but still going with it anyway.

“What just happened?” Hongjoong asked, once situated in the passenger seat.

“Well, um,” Seonghwa began, starting the engine. “We’re going on a little adventure for your birthday.”

He felt Hongjoong continue to stare at him.

“You...you planned something? For my birthday?” Hongjoong’s voice became higher.

“Of course I did,” Seonghwa avoided his gaze and focused on getting to the park. “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell me it was your birthday. I had to find out from Mingi.”

Hongjoong fiddled with his fingers. “I always feel weird telling people because it seems like I’ll be expecting something.”

“But we’re friends, aren’t we? So it’s okay to tell me.”

“Right...we’re friends.”

So!” Seonghwa tried to change the topic. “How was that surprise party they threw for you?”

“Oh god, don’t even get me started,” Hongjoong groaned. “I love them—they’re my besties, but the tango dancing was completely unnecessary. I didn’t even know Mingi was _that_ good at it.”

Seonghwa let out a laugh. “Like I said, Mingi is a man of many talents. I really loved how they did the decorations. Very creative.”

“I have never seen so much of my face in one place all at once before,” Hongjoong pretended to shiver.

“But it was fun, wasn’t it? Did they give you any gifts?”

Seonghwa was curious about what they gave, but he also wanted to see if his own gift wasn’t out of line or weird.

“Oh! Mingi got me these really nice headphones and the sound quality is _so_ good,” Hongjoong gushed, speaking faster out of excitement. “He surprised me because I mentioned the headphones only once and thought he completely forgot about it. I’ve been needing a new pair for a while now so I was looking at some cheaper options, but Mingi really came through!”

“That’s amazing, it’ll be really nice to use when you’re producing,” Seonghwa nodded thoughtfully. “What about Jongho and San?”

“You won’t believe what they did!” Hongjoong bounced in his seat. “Jongho somehow got some of my tracks turned into vinyls and San got one of those vinyl record players customized to me! My jaw was literally on the floor when they gave it to me.”

Holy shit.

That sounded expensive.

“Oh my god,” Seonghwa voiced, glancing over at Hongjoong, whose eyes were glowing from happiness.

“I know right!” he exclaimed. “I don’t even know how they did that, but it’s probably the coolest thing I’ve ever gotten!”

Seonghwa felt incredibly lame now.

Hongjoong’s friends gave him useful and thoughtful gifts while the beret Seonghwa bought was sitting in the backseat.

But to be fair, he had only learned of Hongjoong’s birthday last night, so it wasn’t like he had tons of time to prepare.

“That _is_ really cool. I feel kind of lame now,” he joked even though he was internally slapping himself.

“Don’t feel lame! You’re not lame!” Hongjoong protested, sitting up straight to face Seonghwa. “You went out of your way to…” he trailed off. “Well, I don’t know what you planned, but I promise it isn’t lame.”

Seonghwa smiled at Hongjoong’s insistence of his un-lameness. “I won’t get offended if you think it’s lame.”

“Never!” Hongjoong exclaimed before taking in the surroundings. “Why are we at the park?”

Seonghwa exited the car and grabbed the tote bags from the back seat. 

He waited for Hongjoong to exit before walking ahead, eyes searching for a good spot. “Good question,” he mindlessly commented.

A shaded area under a tree would be better…

There!

“What’s in the bags?” Hongjoong walked beside him, attempting to peek into the bags.

“You’ll find out soon,” he answered vaguely.

Once he reached the center of the shaded area, he grinned at Hongjoong. “We’re having a picnic.”

Hongjoong’s mouth fell open. “A picnic?” he repeated.

Seonghwa internally panicked for approximately 30 milliseconds until Hongjoong spoke again.

“I love picnics! I haven’t been on a picnic in so long!” he clenched his fists as he looked around the park enthusiastically.

Seonghwa set the bags down and reached for the large blanket. “Great! If you hated picnics, I would have just died right here.”

Hongjoong laughed and helped him lay the blanket flat before they both took off their shoes to step on it.

Seonghwa pulled out the containers of food, along with the plates, napkins, and cutlery. “Sorry it’s not anything fancy,” he said, opening each container one by one. “I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare a lot, so this is all I could do.”

Hongjoong intently watched him reveal each food as he sat cross legged. “What do you mean you didn’t have time to prepare a lot? This is so much more than I expected!” he looked up at Seonghwa in awe.

“Really?” Seonghwa pursed his lips, examining the array of food.

He had prepared simple sandwiches as the main meal, strawberries, apple slices, blueberries, raspberries, mango cubes, and a set of cheese and crackers.

For beverages, he prepared a pack of banana milks.

The cake was still in a tote bag, hidden to be a surprise.

“ _Yes_ ,” Hongjoong emphasized. “This is like a whole three course meal.”

“It’s really not,” Seonghwa brushed off, struggling to fight the smile off his face. “Okay, well, feel free to eat whatever you want as much as you want,” he gestured to the array.

Hongjoong reached for the sandwiches first and took a careful bite.

Seonghwa watched his reaction carefully.

He had made ham sandwiches, but what if Hongjoong preferred turkey instead?

“Holy shit,” Hongjoong said, his words muffled from the food. “This is so good!”

Tension released itself from Seonghwa’s shoulders.

“I thought you were gonna say you actually preferred turkey instead,” he joked, grabbing his own sandwich.

Hongjoong shook his head. “No, this is really good. You made this?”

Seonghwa nodded.

“So you’re a talented baker _and_ chef. What can’t you do?” Hongjoong took another bite.

Seonghwa had no idea how Hongjoong always made it seem like he was truly being genuine about his words.

He needed Hongjoong to stop with the compliments before he exploded.

They spent the next hour under the giant tree eating and talking about random stories from their past. 

The calm and peaceful talking somehow turned into a game of who can throw the most blueberries into the other’s mouth without missing.

So far, Seonghwa was winning and Hongjoong was losing badly.

A blueberry hit the side of Seonghwa’s mouth again and Hongjoong groaned from frustration.

“Oh come on, I nearly made it!” he complained, snatching another blueberry.

With determined eyes, he aimed the berry before throwing it into Seonghwa’s awaiting mouth.

Only to miss again.

“Agh!” Hongjoong yelled, throwing his head back. “I can’t be that bad at aiming!”

Seonghwa laughed. “Maybe it’s time to admit defeat.”

“You know what—” Hongjoong went on his knees and reached across to shove a handful of blueberries into Seonghwa’s mouth, his fingertips brushing against the older’s lips.

Seonghwa let out a gargled noise at the onslaught of berries, his eyes widening from the sudden attack and his mind barely registering the feeling of Hongjoong’s fingers over his mouth.

Hongjoong sat back down with a triumphant expression. “There. I refuse to admit defeat.”

So there Seonghwa sat, mouth full of blueberries and mind reeling from what just happened.

He began to chew and held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, fine,” he said around the berries. “You win.”

Hongjoong beamed widely before using his arms to lean back. “I’m so full. Can’t believe you said you didn’t prepare a lot,” he playfully jabbed.

“I didn’t think it was a lot!” Seonghwa defended, gathering the now empty containers. “We’re not done yet though. There’s one more thing.”

“I don’t know if my stomach can handle it,” Hongjoong placed a hand over his stomach.

Seonghwa cleared up the area and grabbed the cake box out of the bag, placing it in between him and Hongjoong. 

The weather wasn’t hot, so he wasn’t worried about the cake melting.

Hongjoong perked up at the sight of the box and sat up straight as he looked expectantly at it.

“You said you wanted me to bake something for you, so…” Seonghwa trailed off.

A wave of nerves suddenly washed over him as he grasped the bottom of the lid.

He’s never been this nervous to show someone his baking before, so why did he feel jumpy?

Besides, he showed Hongjoong the cat cookies in the past, so this cake should be no different.

That still didn’t get rid of the buzzing he felt in his limbs.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled the lid off, revealing the cake he baked last night.

It was a chocolate cake that was layered with whipped cream and blueberry puree.

Chocolate frosting covered it and a halo of blueberries decorated the top, along with a drizzle of chocolate around it.

It was silent for a few moments.

“I’m gonna start crying,” Hongjoong finally said as he stared at the cake.

“In a...in a good way?” Seonghwa stammered, still feeling the rush of nerves.

Hongjoong glanced up to lock eyes with him, causing Seonghwa to freeze.

He couldn’t move or look away.

Within Hongjoong’s eyes were a swirl of emotions, ranging from gratitude, happiness, and a whole bunch of other ones Seonghwa couldn’t decipher.

And frankly he was a bit scared to decipher them.

“This...you…” Hongjoong struggled to find the words, lowering his gaze. “This is all so much more than I ever imagined. And you said you only found out about my birthday last night so this means you stayed up late to make this.”

Seonghwa remained still.

“Thank you….so much,” Hongjoong locked eyes again. “I really, really appreciate all of this and all the effort you put. You honestly didn’t have to, but you did.”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa’s voice strained embarrassingly. “It’s no problem. You deserve to have a good birthday.”

Hongjoong’s lips lifted into a shy smile. “Let’s get this cake cutting started! I’m super excited to try it.”

Seonghwa handed the plastic knife over. “You should be doing the honors.”

Hongjoong held the blade over the cake and paused. “I kind of don’t want to cut it. It’s too beautiful.”

He took a few seconds.

“But I wanna eat it, so goodbye beautiful cake,” he said just as the blade smoothly cut through the layers.

He picked up a piece from his slice with his fork and held it up as Seonghwa did the same with his own slice.

Without another word, they popped the piece into their mouths and goddamn did Seonghwa do an amazing job.

If he had to die for a cake, it would be this one.

The blueberry complemented the chocolate amazingly well and he was already considering making it again.

Hongjoong immediately made a noise and looked intently at his slice.

“This is the best cake I’ve ever had!” he gushed, taking another bite.

Seonghwa savored the taste. “I didn’t know it was gonna be this good, but oh my god.”

“This,” Hongjoong pointed at the cake with his fork, “is the best birthday cake ever. And this is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Seonghwa hid his smile behind his cake as he watched the other boy gleefully finish the dessert.

A whirlwind of happiness made a home in his chest and instead of trying to ignore it, Seonghwa embraced the feeling.

He was so glad Hongjoong was having a good time.

Happiness looked really good on him.

They both ended up eating another slice before finally clearing away all the food, resting a bit before Seonghwa had to get them moving to the next location.

“That was really good,” Hongjoong spoke up, head tilted up at the sky. “All of the food, the cake—everything.”

Seonghwa snuck a glance at him, observing the way the wind gently rustled his hair and the peaceful expression on his face.

He thought for a moment and sifted through the tote bags again. “I think this is a good time to give you your present.”

Hongjoong’s eyes darted over quickly to him. “You mean all that food _wasn’t_ the present? There’s _more_? Jesus, Seonghwa, how much did you prepare?”

“You’d be surprised,” Seonghwa replied, taking out the bag the cashier had put the beret in. He looked at Hongjoong and back at the bag. “It’s...not as cool or grand like Mingi’s, Jongho’s, and San’s gifts,” he said, remembering how amazing their gifts were.

He licked his lips and thumbed at the plain bag. “And I didn’t have enough time to think and plan a better present, so...it’s not really much,” he said, handing it over.

Somehow, he felt even more nervous compared to the cake reveal.

Embarrassment pricked at his spine and he briefly considered just taking it back and telling Hongjoong he would give him a better and more thoughtful gift later on.

But Hongjoong was already pulling the beret out of the bag, holding it carefully in his hands.

“This is so cute!” he held it out in front of him. “I love it!”

Seonghwa had picked out a light green beret that had a little sprout coming out the middle.

He picked this exact color scheme and design strategically.

Hongjoong fitted it over his head and looked to Seonghwa with bright eyes. “How does it look?”

With the green beret over his blue hair, he resembled a blueberry, which was exactly what Seonghwa was going for.

“You look just like a blueberry,” Seonghwa couldn’t hold back a teasing smile.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened at the realization, his hands flying to touch the hat. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” he pouted, a playful glint in his eyes.

“I did and you look great in it,” Seonghwa said, pleased with his decision. He glanced around and took note of the disappearing sun. “Come on, we have to hurry if we wanna make it on time.”

He proceeded to stand up and slip his shoes back on, waiting for Hongjoong to do the same.

“On time for what?” Hongjoong brushed the invisible dirt off his pants and helped Seonghwa fold up the blanket.

“For one last surprise,” Seonghwa replied, making sure they didn’t leave anything behind.

He started walking towards the main path with both hands occupied holding the bags until Hongjoong snatched one up.

“You don’t have to hold everything, you know. I have hands too,” he rolled his eyes.

Seonghwa’s mind flashed back to last night when they were texting. “I do recall telling you that you had two hands.”

“How cruel,” Hongjoong shook his head. “Must you remind me of the coldness I felt in my hands last night?”

A laugh escaped Seonghwa. “Maybe you should just hire a personal hand holder.”

“If he wasn’t so dense, I would have one by now,” Hongjoong muttered under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

The two crossed over a bridge that overlooked a river and turned the corner by the bear statue.

“We’re here.”

In front of them was a vast field of flowers—a vibrant display of pinks, blues, whites, and greens forming a beautiful mixture.

The light breeze carried over a sweet aromatic scent and the sun was setting at just the right time for the sky to be painted with hues of purples and pinks.

The scenery looked like it came out of a dream.

Seonghwa had heard about this flower garden in passing and only saw a few pictures of it, but seeing it in real life truly surpassed his expectations.

“So pretty,” Hongjoong breathed.

“Mingi told me you liked flowers, so I thought it would be a good idea to bring you here,” Seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s...This is….wow. I don’t even know what to say,” Hongjoong said in awe.

He jogged up to the field and touched the petals of a pink flower delicately, leaning down to catch a whiff.

Then he crouched down to pluck up a white flower before tucking it behind his ear right under the beret.

To say Seonghwa almost lost his breath when Hongjoong turned around was an understatement.

With the flower behind his ear and the scenery of the flowers accompanied by the dream-like sunset, he looked….

Pretty.

Very pretty.

Like a fairy who just stepped out of a fantasy book.

The corners of Hongjoong’s lips lifted up slowly until it became a full blown smile, his eyes crinkling in delight.

And holy fuck he looked radiant as hell.

The whole scene looked just like one of those art pieces they’ve been studying for their presentation.

Hongjoong plucked a blue flower nearby and walked up to Seonghwa, who had remained in the same spot. 

Standing on his tiptoes, he carefully slid the flower behind Seonghwa’s ear, gently patting his hair as he does so.

It felt like time slowed down for Seonghwa.

He held his breath and his limbs were frozen.

From how close he was, he could see Hongjoong’s eyelashes.

Were they always that long?

Everything else around him disappeared.

There was Hongjoong and only Hongjoong.

The shorter stepped back on his heels, tilting his head to the side.

“Pretty,” he said.

“You are,” Seonghwa’s big mouth blurted.

God, there was no way to save himself from this, was there?

Hongjoong’s expression turned bashful, his eyes darting away as he caught his lower lip between his teeth.

The sun had fully set and a dark blue blanket was covering the sky with the crescent moon dangling above.

“Can you close your eyes?” Hongjoong suddenly asked.

“Um, sure,” Seonghwa complied, shutting his eyes as told.

The evening chills started to set in, sending shivers through his body.

“You went out of your way to do all of this for me,” Hongjoong began. “You stayed up late baking the best cake I’ve ever had and prepared so much for the picnic. You took time out of your day to celebrate my birthday when I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want you to feel burdened. We’ve only known each other for a couple months, yet you still did so much.”

Seonghwa’s ears picked up on a rustle of leaves.

“I know I keep saying thank you, but I am truly thankful. I can’t even put into words how much this means to me, so this is my thanks.”

A pair of lips planted itself against Seonghwa’s cheek and it left as quickly as it came.

Seonghwa’s eyes flew open in surprise, a hand immediately touching where Hongjoong’s lips made contact.

What…

Why....

His gaze met with Hongjoong’s who had uncertainty written all over his face.

Seonghwa swallowed thickly as his heart started racing a million miles per second and several questions flew around in his head.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Hongjoong beat him to it.

“So let’s go home before I freeze my ass off!” he laughed nervously, brushing past the taller.

Seonghwa’s feet would probably have stayed glued to the ground, but the sound of Hongjoong’s footsteps were getting distant, so he forced himself to snap out of his reverie and catch up with him.

The drive back home was quiet, save for the low hum of the random radio station that was playing.

It was a comfortable silence, except for the fact that Seonghwa’s mind was replaying what just happened and evaluating every detail.

“Thank you for everything...again,” Hongjoong said once they reached his door. “And for the cake,” he looked down at the bag dangling from his fingers that had the cake box inside.

“It was a lot of fun,” Seonghwa nodded. “I hope it was a good birthday.”

“It was,” Hongjoong said quietly.

Seonghwa took a step back. “Well, have a good rest of your night,” he smiled gently.

“Wait,” Hongjoong dropped the bag and dove straight into Seonghwa’s chest, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Seonghwa stumbled backwards a bit and it took a second for him to return the hug as he relished the warmth, unconsciously pressing his cheek to the younger's head.

He unconsciously smiled at the sight of the beret still on Hongjoong’s head—he never took it off once for the whole night.

The shorter pulled away first. “Okay, goodnight,” he turned around quickly and unlocked the door, sliding in with the bag in hand.

A hand reached up to ruffle his hair, making contact with the flower he forgot was there.

He pulled it out and gently held the stem between his fingers, twirling it around as he admired the petals.

◆◆◆◆

Seonghwa settled into the comfort of his bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin.

His mind automatically replayed memories of the day and he smiled at the thought of Mingi, San, and Jongho decorating the place entirely with Hongjoong’s face.

Then his mind went to the picnic and how Hongjoong’s face looked when he laughed.

How he looked when he put the beret on.

How he looked when he smiled in the flower garden.

How he looked after he kissed Seonghwa’s cheek.

There was not one moment where Hongjoong wasn’t breathtaking.

…

Wait a moment.

There was nothing wrong with admitting that a friend is undeniably pretty.

Friends should be complimented, not brought down.

But the tugging on his heart and the weird mixture of feelings tossing in his stomach like a laundry machine were causing him to think of Hongjoong in a different light.

In a light where he wasn’t viewed in a simply platonic way.

But Seonghwa can’t…

He didn’t dare to let his thoughts keep evolving into something he wouldn’t be able to handle.

It was too dangerous.

More than that, it was too scary.

It was too scary to consider what might be changing within Seonghwa.

If he didn’t let himself reflect on how he was feeling, he wouldn’t have to deal with it.

What good was there in admitting the things that might change everything for worse?

He wasn’t even sure if he truly was starting to see Hongjoong differently.

If he ignored it all and pretended that everything was normal, he wouldn’t have to face it.

And facing the possible truth was the last thing he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you don't follow me on twitter, you probably didn't know that i took a short break from writing. but i'm finally back now! i'm doing a lot better ^^
> 
> this chapter was meant to be written and posted near hongjoong's bday but unfortunately it had to be pushed back till now :( but [this is the cake](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afY7FxkywTw) that seonghwa baked for joong!
> 
> so i really hope you enjoyed reading this chapter :) we're making more progress!!

**Author's Note:**

> as always, thank you for reading :D  
> -cherry/katsujoong
> 
> twitter and curiouscat: @katsujoong  
> (i use twitter pretty often! and i'd love to hear your thoughts on curiouscat)


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